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The Yellow War

"O"

"INTELLIOEKCE OFFICER")

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

MCM V

All Ri^hu Tuervnd

/C f ... I - ♦ ,

C L 1 b 1 ■ .'- i

- . ^»'. >

' I

1 ' J 1^ /»

^' ^^ ^<^4vvvAvv^^*-'A^

FOEEWOED.

The foUowing sketches have been pubUshed
with the object of giving the layman some
glimpses of the true significance of war when
two first-class Powers come together on sea
and land in the clash of battle. Of many
of the incidents related I have been an eye-
witness. For the rest, I have dealt at first
hand with the actors themselves. Although
for the purpose of concealing identity the
nomenclature is fictitious, yet every char-
acter in the book represents some living
actor in the terrific drama with which I
have been intimate during the past year.
Linguistic difficulties may have made some

•

VI FOREWORD.

of my translations a little firee : for this I
must apologise.

The majority of the sketches have already
appeared in * Blackwood's Magazine/ to the
proprietors of which I am much indebted.

The Illustrations have been reproduced
by the courtesy of the proprietors of * The
Graphic'

CONTENTS.

OHAP.

I. THB BLOOEINO OF PORT ABTHUR
n. A GLDffPSB AT THB BAYAS
m. THE BAOB TOR PINGTANO . ,

IV. RIVBR-FIGHTING • . • <

V. THB BACRinOB OF o'tERU SAN
TL THB FORLORN-HOFB AT KINOHAU
VIL THB MILITARY TRIUHVIRATB

Yni. A VISIT TO Togo's rbndbzyoub

IX. THB PATH IN THB BAST IB STRANGE
X. THB FALL OF THB MIGHTY

XI. CHAMPIONS

Xn. THB OUTPOST

Xm. THB BLOOKADB-RUNNBR .

XIV. THB AFFAIR OF THB BRIDGB-GUARD .

PAoa
1

72
79
117
134
143
149
168

Vlll CONTENTS.

ZV. THB NAVAL SXTB-LIBUTBNANT's BTOBY , 186

XYI. OF AN OFFIOBB'b PATROL . • . 236

XVU. THB LAST SBBVIOB . . • • • 252

xviiL "actum est DB " • ... 265

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

''BLACK, HIBSIN0^ Aim BATTKBBD, THB BOAS WAB
CLOBIKG ON US UKB BOMB HIDBOnB BBA-MOH-

btbb" FronJtigpieoe

THB BAYAN VignOU on TUle-page

"the forts of FOBT ABTHXTB WBRB FDUNG THB
6TTNS WHICH AT NIGHT ABB ALWAIB TBAINBD
UPON THB HABBOUB AFPBOACHBS" ... 4

"A BALYO OF BUBSTINa BHBLLB DB8TB0TBD THB

NBABBBT FONTOONB" .44

"by BUNBBT THB JAPANBSB HAD OABRIBD THIS

work" . 64

'<LIEB A PACK OF HOUNDS HIS HBN STBBAKBD

DOWN AFTBB HIU" 118

''TWO OF THB MOST SANGUINABT BUSHBS MADB BB-
FOBB THB RUSSIAN OOUNTBBSTBOKB FINALLY
FAILED*' 186

"the JAPANBSB WBRB THROWING PBOJB0TILB8 INTO
US WITH A BAPIDITT OF FIRE THAT WAS ABSOL-
UTELY appalling" 234

^'IT WAB GOOD FOR HIS MEN AND HORSES TO BB

BBSTED AND FED" 240

THE YELLOW WAB.

THE BLOCKING OF PORT ARTHUB.

Chikampo, April 1904.

The officer in command of the doomed ship
stood in front of the wheel with his eyes
glued upon the deepening ba43e of black
darkness in front of him. The increasing
shadow betokened the land he was striving
to make. Ever and anon he seized the
night-glass, peered into the thickness, and
then replaced the glass on the rack. Once
only did he raise his right hand in signal
to the dim figure of the man at the wheel.
All was darkness. The only light was the
binnacle^ and it was so cowled with canvas

2 THE BLOCKING OP PORT ABTHUJL

that the figure at the wheel was bending
over his work to keep his view of the com-
pass. The slow grind of the half-speed
engines and the swirl of displaced water
was in itself sound enough to render al-
most unbearable the overpowering feeling
of silence.

Suddenly a great flood of light cleft the
darkness ahead. It was so white and clear
that the faces of the three men on the
bridge looked pale and death -like. The
man at the wheel winced with the stroke
— it was literally a stroke of light; but
the officer only moved his hand. The
enemy had defeated their own ends ; they
had shown him the passage — half a point
to starboard and the course was true.
There stood the white stones of the light-
house which for weeks had surrendered its
functions to port-bound mariners.

For the space of perhaps fifteen seconds
the great white eye penetrating the dark-
ness was fixed full upon the boat It

THB BLOCKINQ OF PORT ABTHUB. 3

winked irresolutely, flashed upwards, then
down again, away to starboard, until the
elliptical base of the fearsome cone of
light was well abeam. Then back it came
and glared savagely fiill upon the steamer,
silently closing down upon it. It looked
long and steadfastly, and, as suddenly as
it had come, it was cut off. All was dark
and dreadful again. But only for a second.
A long meteor-like rocket shot up from the
centre of the great overpowering mass
ahead. Its sinuous course closed in a mass
of sparks. It was as if the torch had
been applied to the pi^ce de resistance of
some great firework display. In a moment
what was darkness became a semicircle of
scintillating light. The great beam of the
Golden Hill searchlight leapt into life. It
was supported by a score of lesser search-
lights from the foremasts of the ships in
harbour. But there were other lights —
lightning flashes from the breast of the
mountain, which at intervals the acute

4 THE BLOCKING OF PORT ARTHUR.

beams of the searchlights revealed — flashes
which seared the gloom and vanished.
Within a moment's space after this blaze
of light came the ominous rattle which
discovered its origin. The forts of Port
Arthur were firing the guns which at night
are always trained upon the harbour ap-
proaches. The tumult was deafening. The
great bare flanks of the mountains behind
caught up the deadly roll of discharging
quick-firers, and flung the sound back in
mocking reverberation. But that was not
the worst sound. The hissing rush of pro-
jectiles, the ear-splitting swish as they
struck the water and exploded, or shrieked
in ricochet overhead — in a moment the
tension bred of apprehensive darkness had
changed to an inferno of modern war.

The man at the wheel bent his head for-
ward with the impulse of a man meeting
a storm. But the officer never moved
aught but his directing hand. The ever
appearing and disappearing arc of the

THS BLOCKING OF PORT ABTHX7R. 5

searchlights gave him his point, and he
steered directly upon it, while the four
men crouching at the lifehoat falls, and
sweating engine-room volunteers, wondered
when the whistle would sound to call them
on deck from the chance of the most awful
death to which mariners live expoeed-
death from the escape of disabled boilers I
For a moment from amidst the circle of
flashes, low down on the port-bow of the
doomed ship, a smaller searchlight showed
It seemed to break up from the very water-
level. It was the flashlight of a destroyer.
At last the Japanese officer gave jdvidence
of sensibility to the Hades which sur-
rounded him. He had brought his ship
far enough into the passage. The beam
in front told him that the enemy would do
the rest. He blew the whistle which his
teeth had almost bitten flat. In a second
the men manned the falls of the lifeboat,
while the petty officer responsible for the
igniting of the bursting charge in the

€ THE BLOCKING OF PORT ARTHUR.

vessel's hold dropped down the hatchway
to the point where his duty lay.

" Port, hard a-port 1 " the oflScer was now
fairly gesticulating. As her head came
slowly round a heavy shell hit her forward.
So great was the impact of this metal stroke
that for a moment it nullified the efibrts of
the helm, and flung the officer and man at
the wheel from their feet, while the men
at the falls became a woeful heap in the
scuppers. Then another shock. This was
different. It was as if an earthquake had
struck her: a« if some great monster of
the deep had seiz^ her in its tentacles
and shaken her. Instantaneously the en-
gines stopped. If the officer could have
seen them, he would have found that they
were twisted out of all semblance of sym-
metry. A torpedo had struck her amid-
ships, and had brought her mechanical
movement to a standstill She would not
even answer her hehn. And in spite of
the inferno below, an unending hell of pro-

7HB BLOCKING OF PORT ABTHUB. 7

jectiles tore the darkness above. Again
the whistle sounded- — three times in long
shrill notes. It was the order to take to
the boat. As the men slipped down the
ropes the base of the after*mast and smoke-
stack were swept out of her by shell-fire.
In the boat the o£Scer stood up and counted
his men. There should have been fifteen.
One was missing. " It is the petty officer
in the hold t '' the word was passed along.
In a moment the officer had swung himself
up to the deck again; and as the boat's
crew waited, the man with the boat-hook
could feel the inches sinking, as the ship
settled. Then a three -inch shell took
the boat-hook out of his hand, and, to
save her from drifting, he had to jump up
and hold on to the slack fall. Again the
light of the destroyer was on them, and
the quick-firing projectiles clanged and
hissed against the vessel's iron sides with
the tumult and continuity of hammers in
iron-foundry works.

8 THE BLOCKING OF PORT ARTHUR.

The oflScer was at the rail again.

Had the petty oflScer returned ? No !
The oflScer disappeared back to the hold.
A giant hissing from the engine-room told
him that the water would soon reach the
boilers. It was hopeless. The petty oflScer
must have been killed by the concussion of
the Russian torpedo. The oflScer was on
deck again. The ship was listing heavily.
He shouted to his men in the boat, now
hanging on in momentary terror of being
engulfed in the wash of the sinking ship.
His foot was on the rail, when the destroyer
reopened with its quick-firer. A shell took
him in the neck and shoulder, and, bursting
on impact, carried this brave man's head
and brains away with it. His mutilated
trunk fell forward amongst his anxious men
struggling to keep the boat on. For a
moment they did not know that he was
dead. He was aboard. They pushed oflT,
and as they handled the oars gave a cheer.
Then they discovered that it was the warm

THE BLOCKIKO OF PORT ABTHUB. 9

thick life's -blood of their chief and not the
spume of the sea which had made them so
wet in the darknes& They were three
lengths away when the water reached the
boilers. A rush of steam, a report that
dwarfed the raging gun-fire, and the FvJcui
Mo/ru rolled over and settled just in the
place which her officer. Commander Hirose
of the imperial Japanese navy, had chosen.
And three other tragedies similar to this
were taking place in the narrow channel of
Port Arthur's harbour entrance this very
aight.

A GLIMPSE AT THE "BAYAN."

Apnl 1904

The rear-admiral and his flag-captain had
been on the bridge the whole night. It was
miserable weather : the wind had veered
round towards the north, and in spite of
the promise of spring which the last fort-
night had given, the sleet from the squalls
was as icy as that of a mid- winter blizzard.

Every quarter of an hour the navigating
lieutenant made his way to the bridge to
apprise the admiral of the position of the
squadron. Half an hour ago the first signs
of approaching dawn had cut into the gloom
in the east, but the squalls had rolled up
again and practically nullified the first
efforts of awakening day, — so much so

A GLIMPSE AT THB " BA YAN. 11

that it was impossible to make out even
the outline of the vessel following the
flag-ship, although it was only two cable-
lengths astern. For one moment the navi-
gating lieutenant turned on the little read-
ing-lamp on the bridge, which gave sufficient
shrouded light to enable the admiral to
follow the markings on the chart. The
admiral glanced at the pencil-marks, then
looked at the clock He nodded his head,
with the single remark, "We are in the
right place"; in a moment the little light
was extinguished, and aU was darkness.

The three men peered anxiously into the
murky mist -cloud on the port-beam, — the
haze of the driving rain-storm was still
very thick. Something seemed to catch
the navigating lieutenant's ear, for he left
the senior officers and made his way to the
starboard rail ; for two minutes he remained
motionless, the pose of his body indicating
rapt attention. He seemed satisfied, for on
moving back to the others he whispered

« -nA-VTA^T "

12 A GLIMPSE AT THE " BAYAN.

something in the admiral's ear, and all three
officers went over to the rail. There was
no doubt about it now. The wind which
had brought the squall dropped as suddenly
as it had risen, and the low muffled murmur
which heralds firing at sea could be dis-
tinctly heard above the wash that the vessel
made, as she drove her way through the
water.

The squall had passed, and almost im-
mediately the increased vigour of returning
day forced itself superior to the shadows of
vanishing night. What had been black now
became the duU grey of a humid mid-ocean
morning. The great mysterious shadows of
the ships astern picked themselves out from
the surrounding mists, while even the low
hulls of the wicked -looking little torpedo
craft, on either flank, began to show as
indistinct masses against the false horizon.
As day dawned the sound of firing seemed
to increase. Now it was quite distinct — a
rattle of quick-firers burning ammunition

« n A XT A %* »»

A QLDCPSE AT THE '^ BAYAN/ 18

in deadly earnest. The torpedo craft had
heard it too, for suddenly the three indis*
tinct blotches which betokened the yessels
on the starboard beam put up their helms
and disappeared into the mist. It was too
thick yet to make a flag- signal, so the
admiral stood on his course.

As one looked down from the bridge it
seemed that the flag-ship was some ghostly
death-ship. Everything was lean and gaunt
and silent; there was no movement, save
where the rain -wash trickled over into the
scuppers; few men could be seen, and of
these each stood motionless to his quarters.

It was a depressing sight. There is
probably nothing in this world so oppress-
ive as the appearance of the modern war-
ship fined down to the actual requisites of
slaughter as she appears firom the bridge
on a cold grey morning, with officers and
crew strained by waiting for that moment
in which the vessel shall commence to put
in practice the desperate object of her

« -nA VA-.rr »'

14 A OLIMPSB AT THE " BAYAN.

existenca If this strain were to be con-
tinuous it would be more than the most
magnificent nerves in human nature could
support. Such is the state at dawn, but
daybreak generaUy brings relief. So it is
in this case.

The torpedo-boats had hardly been absent
five minutes before they were back again,
and the leading boat steamed in close
alongside the flag-ship. Six, eight, five
little flags fluttered out from its apology
for a mast. The navigating lieutenant had
gone below, but the signalman read them
in spite of the mist ; the admiral looked at
his flag-captain and they both smiled. The
expression of the smile was that of a man
who had played for a high stake and won.
The admiral said three words, and the
flag-captain passed them on to the signal-
man, — up fluttered the answering pennant,
and a second later the message was hoisted
beneath it. Other little pennants appeared
on each of the dumpy masts of the torpedo

A QLIMPSS AT THE '^ BATAN. 15

craft, and they disappeared full Bteam
ahead.

It was now quite light, and the mist
very rapidly cleared, disclosing the squad-
ron of cruisers, line ahead, forging forward
at just sufficient speed to keep them upon
their course. The senior officers of the
flag-ship still stood grouped on the star-
board rail. It was now broad daylight,
and the wind changed suddenly to the
west: as it changed it rolled up patches
of the fog, so that almost in the time that
it would have taken to cross the bridge a
grey stretch of open sea was visible
towards the north. The four officers on
the bridge saw a heavy pall of smoke at
the same moment, — that tell-tale smoke
which is proof of cheap coal in the stoke-
hole. The wind cleared it, as it had
cleared the mist. The flag-lieutenant was
the first to speak. "One, two, three,
four," he said as he counted the smoke-
stacks; "that is the Baymh^

«« T^A-<rA%x"

16 A GLIMPSE AT THE " BA YAN.

The Eussian made the squadron out at
the same moment, for the black smudge of
her hull against the horizon was pierced by
the lurid yellow of burning cordite. There
were a few seconds, during which the
officers on the bridge stood erect from the
stooping position which had been theirs
when gazing into the haze, — then came a
rushing, swishing sound, the terrifying
screech of projectiles in passage through
the air. Two hurtled overhead, while a
third, falling short, exploded upon impact
with the water, and sent a great salt spray
driving across the bridge. The Bayan is a
handy vessel ; but all the skilful manoeuv-
ring in the world could not have saved her
if she had persevered in action against six
cruisers. But to get away there were just
a few seconds when she had to show her
broadside. She did it bravely, the yellow
flashes sparkling up and down the whole
length of her lean hull. The flag-captain
was at the speaking-tube, and as the

A GLIMPSE AT THE " BAYAN.'^ 17

Russian turned, quiver after quiver shook
the bridge. The ear-splitting reports
which followed showed how the flag-ship
took advantage of the broader target. Not
only the flag-ship, for the signalmen were
busy at the halyards ; and as the admiral
glanced stemwards he saw behind him a
flickering line of yellow flashes, proof
positive that each of his captains had read
his signal. As for the Bayan, it looked for
all the world as if she were the centre of
a shoal of spouting whales. Great geysers
of water seemed to splash almost as high
as her smoke-stacks, and from the burst of
those projectiles which made their contact
it would seem that the vessel was bound to
be destroyed. But, as akeady remarked,
she is a handy craft. Only a few seconds
of this fearful ordeal, and then her four
funnels seemed to disappear into one, and
she was making the best of her 22-knets
speed to Port Arthur. No ignoble flight,
for her stern still gave evidence of her

U T>A«rA^T »

18 A GLIMPSB AT THE " BAY AN.

stingy and in rapid succession three great
projectiles ricochetted high over the flag-
ship. For a moment the admiral had it in
his mind to make the signal to pursue ; but
he remembered his orders, and the squad-
ron stood steadily on at half-speed. The
wind rolled up another squall, and the
Bayan was lost to sight almost as rapidly
as she had appeared.

IIL

THE RACE FOB PINGTANG.

Chivampo, April 1904.

For the twentieth time that morning the
column came to a halt. It was a repeti-
tion of the wearisome blocks which had
delayed the troops since daybreak: the
wind was too boisterous and the snow too
heavy for any one to hear an order. The
files behind simply took their cue from the
files in front of them. As each particular
four came to a standstill the men turned
their backs to the teeth of the blizzard.
Thus when his turn came Private Eawada
turned with them. The men immediately
placed their rifles between their knees and
did their best to resuscitate the circulation
in their hands. One or two of the files,

20 -THE BACB FOR PINGYANG.

recking nothing of the state of the ground
beneath them, and borne down by the
weight of accoutrements and skin coats,
heavy and saturated, dropped to their
knees. Kawada took off his left mitten
and put his fingers in his mouth in the
hope that he might get back some little
warmth into the extremities. How differ-
ent it all was to what he had expected
when he had first been mobUised in Tokyo !
How different his sensations now to what
they were when his corps had marched to
the Shimbashi station ! Then he had felt
there was no hardship in fighting for one's
country, it all seemed so easy and pleasant.
He looked round at his three more intimate
companions in hardship; their faces were
the colour of the parchment of a drum
discoloured by age and ill-usage. Some
of them were literally green with cold,
and the state of the ground they were
crossing was such that the very clothes
which were intended to protect them

THE RACE FOK PINQYANO. 21

seemed, in their weight and soddenness,
their worst enemies. When they had de-
barked from the transport the men had
landed singing. They had all sung patri-
otic songs as they marched into their first
bivouac, but that was days ago, and at
the present moment there seemed to be
none left who had the heart or spirit to
sing.

An officer passed down the line : he was
riding a shoddy little pony which looked
as if twenty-four hours must see the finish
of its lease of life. This officer shouted to
the right-hand files that there would be a
halt of half an hour. As the men heard
this they wrapped the flap of their coats
tighter round the locks of their rifles and,
just as they stood, flung themselves down
in the sleet-slush. One of the more enter-
prising in the group, of which Kawada now
found himself the centre, had carried, slung
to the end of his rifle, a small perforated
tobacco- tin containing an inch or two of

22 THE RACE FOR PINGYANa

live charcoal. This primitive heater was
passed from hand to hand, men even press-
ing it against their cheeks in the endeavour
to persuade some artificial heat into their
systems.

Kawada crouched down in the snow-
morass, and if he had not been a true
Japanese, imbued with the sense that
whatever service done as a national duty
was a light service, he would have wished
— as so many thousands, comprising all
known nationalities of the world, have
wished before him — that he had never
been a soldier. To keep dry or warm was
out of the question, but by huddling close
together some protection was afforded from
the cutting wind and a little collective
animal heat arrived at. And so tired, 60
weary, and so cold were the men that
they even, in spite of their bitter situa-
tion, dozed off.

Kawada's thoughts turned to Tokyo : he
thought of the pleasant garden in Aoyama

THB RACE FOR PINOYANO. 28

which, from all precedent, should by now
have begun to give evidence of that spring
life upon which is founded the whole
artistic virtue of Japan. He thought of
the last evening that he had spent in
Shimbashi, of the well-lighted and warm
rooms of the fashionable tea-house and the
delicacies in fried eels and rice, of the
bright eyes of the peerless Hoorji as she
knelt in front of him ; in fact, he thought
of all the pleasures of the luxurious life
he had left behind him. And in com-
parison what was his state now ? Perished
with cold, nauseated with the taste of the
glutinous stale rice which he carried in the
little wicker-basket attached to his belt;
miserable and friendless save for his com-
panions in misfortune around him, and, for
all he knew, forgotten, but — and here the
great heart of the Japanese people welled
up in him — it was all being suffered, all
being endured, in the service of Japan, in
the service of the country which was

24 THE RACE FOR PINGYANG.

destined, perhaps even in Kawada's time,
to be the greatest Power in Asia.

There was some movement ahead; the
men in the preceding files were rising to
their feet; Kawada's section followed suit,
and in another three minutes the whole
force was plodding wearily onward,
squelching into the teeth of the northern
blizzard. Thus they pushed on, miserable,
weary, and footsore, the tiny little ad-
vance-guard of the great enterprise which
Japan had undertaken to the astonishment
of the world. Just 300 men, battling with
the adverse elements, to reach Pingyang.
In front of them they had the might of
the great Russian Empire of the north.
Just 300 men ! what if the Russians should
have been before them in this race for the
all-important goal ? What could 300 men
expect to do if the great army of Cossacks
should already have overrun Korea ? The
snow-clouds ahead obliterated all that was
in front of them ; in fact, at times it was

THE RACE FOR PINQYANG. 26

almost impossible for them to see the road
by which they were travelling. But they
knew what they had behind them: they
were the advance-guard of the army which,
if the necessity should arise, would consist
of 500,000 men ; of the nation which, be-
fore it would acknowledge defeat, would
find 20 millions of men prepared to enter
upon a more desperate enterprise even than
that in which this little advance-guard i^as
now engaged. If Pingyang were reached
in time, what would past hardships
matter? what would it signify that the
road from Hai-ju to Pingyang was strewn
with the bodies of the weaklings from the
forlorn-hope ?

A week later all was forgotten. Ka-
wada and his companions lay in the
snow trenches north of Pingyang. They
cooked their rice themselves, and were
able, when not on duty, to sit round a
bowl of smouldering charcoal and watch

26 THE RACK FOR PINGYANG.

behind them the great black line winding
its way through the snowdrifts, which
declared the head of Kuroki's army as it
marched up to occupy the position which
the advance-guard had seized. And as
Kawada gazed oul across the miles of
white in front of him he ceased to
speculate as to the chances of Hoorji
having found another lover : his only
thought for the moment was when the
rifle, which he nursed so carefully under
the flap of his fur -lined coat, would be
called upon to do its duty. And that
very morning, as he leaned upon the
parapet, far away in the north he made
out a few black specks standing out in
bold relief against the snow. He called
a sergeant, and together through glasses
they examined the suspicious spots. They
were coming up from under a rise. More
and more appeared, until at least the total
reached twenty, and as they came nearer
the magnifying-glasses unmasked the tell-

THE RAGE FOB PINGYANO. 27

tale lance-poles. These specks were the
first messengers from the great Power of
the north. They were the advance-guard
of six sotnias of Cossacks detailed to seize
and hold Pingyang.

In less than an hour Eawada's rifle
burnt the first cartridge in the land
struggle of the Russo-Japanese war.

IV.

EIVER-FIGHTING.

Chinakpo, April 1904.

The Korean fisherman did not like his job
in the least. He cowered down beneath
the gunwale chattering like a maniac, and
with difficulty maintained his hold on the
tiller and the sheet of the lateen sail. No
one took any heed of his chattering, and
save that the naval lieutenant threatened
him occasionally with his scabbard he was
left to his own devices. The junk's sails
were well filled, and as the current was
with her she was making a good eight
knots as she threaded her way between
the sand-dunes. Ever and anon the boat
had to force its way through fields of drift-
ice, for the Yalu had only just commenced

Bi V£U-FIGHTIKO. 29

to disgorge its winter surface. But it was
not the difficulties of navigation which had
reduced the Korean fisherman to such a
state of abject terror, — it was the fact that
he had been impressed by the boat's crew
of Japanese sailors fi'om the scouting gun*
boat to take them up to the mouth of the
river. None knew better than he that
seven miles of the course that he was now
steering would take them right into the
Eussian lines. And his chattering at the
moment was due to the uncertainty of
thought whether it were hotter to he shot
at once by the revolver hanging aggressively
from the lieutenant's belt, or to have his
lease of life deferred until they were at a
range from which the Russian outposts
would do the killing. But the little lieu-
tenant recked nothing of this argument : he
was busy disposing of his seven men at the
thwarts, and at the same time scanning the
skylines of the sand-dunes as they raced
past.

so BIYEB-FIGHnNQ.

Half a mile ahead a great bank jutted
out across their course ; on the far side of
this he could make out a lateen sail similar
to their own. As soon as the fisherman
saw it his chattering redoubled, and in the
anxiety of his desire to communicate to the
lieutenant he let go the sheet. All Japanese
objurgations are polite, and feeling that he
had nothing in his vocabulary to meet the
case, the little lieutenant rescued the sheet
with his right hand and brought the boat
up to the wind again himself, while with
his left he belaboured the steersman.

They had to make a considerable detour
before they could round the obstacle in
front of them, but once they were clear
they found that they were half a mile away
from the junk, the sight of which had so
agitated the Korean. As a rule, in these
waters fishermen do not carry arms, and
the first thing the lieutenant made out,
when he got a clear sight of the strange
craft, was the glint of the morning sun on

ItIY£B-FIGHTINO. 81

rifles. Had a Japanese boat's crew ever
had such luck before? The little officer
smiled all over his face as he communicated
the joyfiil tidings to his men — here indeed
was a situation; a primitive sea fight on
the racing waters of the Yalu. The Korean
steersman saw the glint of the rifles at the
same moment; the sight did not fill him
with similar enthusiasm, and he settled all
doubt that had hitherto possessed him as
to the safety of the mission by abandoning
the tiller and jmnping overboard. For a
moment the thought of the death penalty
flashed across the little lieutenant's mind,
and his hand instinctively closed on the
butt of his revolver; but he had no use
for cowards, dead or alive, so with a loud
laugh he himself took the tiller, and, pulling
the sheet taut, bore down upon the Rus-
sian junk.

Nor were the Russians refusing. If they
had had any misgivings as to the identity
of the Japanese boat, these were dispelled

32 BIVER-FIGHTINO.

as one of the bluejackets rove on to the hal-
yards the emblem of the rising sun, so that
it fluttered out above the lateen sail. The
rival commanders must have given the
ranges to their men simultaneously, for the
sinack of the small-bore rifles of both burst
out together. The Russians stood off a
couple of points so as to bring more rifles
to bear. The range was now 500 yards.
The Russian shots whizzed overhead, sang
through the rigging, ripped tiny holes in
the sail, and splintered the planks of the
lofty bow. The Japanese answered deliber-
ately, — the little lieutenant, with his foot
on the tiller, the sheet in his right hand,
and his glasses in his left, directing the fire.
Fifteen minutes of this, and suddenly the
sail of the Russian junk went aback, round
came her ponderous prow. She had had
enough. The breeze again caught her great
sail, and she headed up with the tide. The
lieutenant reduced his firing strength by
two as he ordered two bluejackets to man

EIVER-ITGHnNO. 88

the junk's stem-sweep: himself^ he never
moved either his foot from the tiller or his
hand from the sheet, even though a bullet
carried the glasses out of his left hand and
scored a great sear in his forearm : he was
going to have that junk, or perish in the
attempt. The Eussian commander evi-
dently thought so too, for he only stood
upon his new course long enough to see
that the smaller vessel was overhauling
him, when he put his helm over and headed
for a sandbank. In three minutes she was
aground, and her crew of nine soldiers
wading to the shore. This gave the
Japanese bluejackets theu- opportunity.
They rested their rifles on the gunwale
and let the magazines do their best. The
water round the Russians became as agitated
as the surface of a pond in a hailstorm.
But the men made good their passage to
the shore, and, opening out, doubled to the
summit of the dune. The lieutenant brought
his boat up alongside the abandoned junk,

34 RIVBR-FIOHTINO.

and as his men made it fast they found in
the corpses of two Russians the evidence of
their good shooting ; but they had not time
to apprise the value of their capture, for it
was up and into the water in pursuit. By
this time the Russians had taken up a
position to oppose a landing, and as the
bluejackets waded to the sandbank they in
their turn suffered the ordeal of a concen-
trated fire. But they reached the shore,
and were advancing to the attack when
suddenly they descried two more junks
bearing down upon them firom the extremity
of the bank.

There is a limit to the odds which even a
junior naval lieutenant dare encounter, so
the youth doubled his men back to the
water, and pushed both the junks off: at
least, if he could not complete his skirmish,
he would carry off the spoils of war.

THE SACRIFICE OF O'TEKU SAN.

iTajr 1904.

A BOY and girl sat on a steep grass slope
in a Japanese garden. The boy, who wore
the apron affected by students, was talking
earnestly — far too earnestly for his years,
we in the West would have thought.
The girl, whose kimono and paper sun-
shade formed the only coloured relief to
a background of fresh emerald green, was
listening with downcast eyes.

"It is no use, O'Teru San," the youth
said, almost mournfully; "I shall have to
work like a common coolie, for we have
not the money to continue my education."
The maid offered no comment to this state-
ment, and the boy continued the recital

36 THE SACRIFICE OP o'tBRU SAN.

of his troubles. " It is very, very hard,"
he said, '^ that I should have come from a
family of princes, and have now to do
menial work in order that I may live, —
perhaps even be obliged to serve foreigners
in some low capacity, and profess myself
obedient to people whom I despise. To
think of it, O'Teru San I from to-morrow
I shall go to the College no more, and from
the next day will be apprenticed to an
artisan. I, who, as befits one of my station,
next year was to go to the military school
to become an officer ; and now, just because
my father has speculated badly in some
foreign entorprise, I must give up all
thought of the future and live in the pre-
sent — a coolie!"

The youth cast himself over on his side,
and although his companion did not look
up, yet she knew that his brown eyes had
filled with tears. There was a brief silence,
during which Teru San was making up her

THB SAOBIFIGB OF o'tBKU SAN. 37

mind. Although to our Western ideas she
was but a child, yet here in the East those
whom we would still opine children have,
in their teens, reached a mental state
which we call maturity. The cruel fate
which seemed about to ruin her companion's
ambitions hurt her as deeply as if a bann
had been placed upon herself She also
had her own ambitions. But her hopes
for the future were bound up in the success
or failure of this youthAil student who had
been in her life ever since she could remem-
ber. Personally, also, she did not wish to
be the wife of a carpenter or a 'ricksha
coolie.

" Is there no way ? " she said ; " will not
your relations do something for you?" She
turned and put her hand upon the shoulder
of the prostrate student. He shook his
head moumfiilly. In a moment the girl
made up her mind. ^'Then Teru San will
do something for you. O'Tanaka San, go

38 THE SACRIFICE OF O'tERU SAN.

back to the school to-morrow. I will find
the money/'

There was a grand entertainment at the
Mitsui Club. The resident members of this
great and exclusive famUy were giving a
farewell send-off to a batch of officers of the
Imperial Guard who were due to leave
Tokyo on the following morning to join the
transports collected in the Inland Sea. For
the p\u*pose of this entertainment the ten
most popular Geishas in Tokyo had been
retained.

The evening was half-way through, and
the young men, grouped in easy attitudes
around the room, were satiated with the
ordinary efforts at female dancing. ** Where
is O'Teru San ? " somebody shouted ; others
took up the cry and clapped their hands.
A screen at the far end of the room was
pushed aside; the little fraQ figure ap-
peared in the opening. It was Teru San.
She fell on her knees and bowed to the

THE SACRIFICE OF o'tERU BAN. 39

ground, as is the etiquette on such oc-
casions. Then she stood up in all her glory
of gold and grey. A perfect round of ap-
plause greeted her, for at the moment she
was the idol of young Tokya Even to the
European estimate she was beautiful, — ^to
young Tokyo, peerless. She glided in to
the centre of the room, radiant in the
knowledge of her success, magnificent in
the blending colours of her finery, and she
danced as young Tokyo had never seen a
Geisha dance before. Her figure finished,
she stepped down among the audience
and gracefully acknowledged the congrat-
ulations which were heaped upon her.
Surely this girl was happy, if the happi-
ness of a Geisha is to be judged by popu-
larity. Daintily she took the little china
cups which were offered her ; modestly she
pressed them to her lips, just tasting the
contents. Then they pleaded with her to
dance again. All smiles, she retired to the
stage, and gave a representation in grace-

40 THE SAGBIEICE OF o'tERU SAN.

fill movements of some old ballad of love
and war, such as young Tokyo adored.
Then, bowing low, she passed again be-
hind the screen. And as the sound of
the applause died in her ears, so did the
smile of happiness fi:om her face. Hastily
she changed her kimono, and called for
the jinricksha which was waiting for her
in the courtyard.

It was a bitter night for poor Teru
San; she was going now to meet her
lover for the last time — for Tanaka, a
lieutenant in the Imperial Guards, was
also leaving in the morning to meet the
Russians.

Such was the history of Teru San.
When she had come to her resolution to
find the money with which her lover was
to be educated, she had gone straightway
and sold herself — as many hundreds of
other Japanese girls have done in simUar
circumstances — to the master of some tea-
house. The house which she had selected

THB SACREBIOB OF o'tBBXJ SAN. 41

had been owned by a man who, long
trained in the art» had seen the com-
mercial value of the dainty little lass who
falteringly offered to sign the indentures.
He had paid a sufficient sum in cash to
ensure the first year's fees of Tanaka's
education; the successful Teru Saifs out-
side earnings had suppUed the rest Thus
supported, her lover had passed firom one
grade to another, until now he was a
dashing subaltern in the Guards. All
that the young couple were waiting for
was the day when the tea - house ransom
should be paid in full, and Teru San free
of her strange obligations. We of the
West cannot understand this : in the East

it is different.

• ••• .•••

The leading company had been lying
under the cover of a sand-dune since day-
break. The men were becoming restless:
behind them they could hear the even
rhythm of the three batteries of artillery

42 THE SACRIFICE OF o'tERU SAN.

which were endeavouring to silence the
Russian guns on the far side of the river,
and ever and anon some projectile would
whistle angrily above their heads, or, bury-
ing itself in front of them, would throw
great showers of sand into their ranks.
The men were getting restless at the
delay which kept them from carrying out
their orders. These orders were engraven
in each man's heart, — for such is the
system of the Japanese: when possible
each man in the army, from the general
of division to the humblest stretcher-
bearer, knows exactly what is to be ex-
pected of him during the ensuing day, as
far as the general staff can calculate the
frmction of any particular unit.

This regiment of the Guards had orders
to lie under cover as near as possible to
the foot of the bridge which the sappers
were constructing, and as soon as the
structure was worthy, to push across it
and turn the Russians from their positions

THE 8AGB1FICB OF o'XERU SAN. 43

on the far side of the river. Since two
o'clock in the morning they had been
lying there, and it was now past mid-day
and yet the bridge was not complete.
Tanaka had crept up to his captain's side,
and together they had crawled to the top
of the sand-dune and watched the pro-
gress which the sappers were making. It
seemed now that almost the last pontoon
had been floated down. The little engin-
eers were working like demons on the
bridge * head, and as they worked the
water all round the pontoons seemed
alive with bursting shells. Time after
time the men working on the hawsers
were swept away, and as the cord passed
from their lifeless grasp there were other
willing hands ready to take it. There
was no time to care for dead or wounded,
there was no room for either on the pon-
toons, a man down was a man lost, and
it served the interests of the State better
to push his body into the boiling stream

44 THE SACMFIOB OF o'tERU SAN.

rather than hamper the bridge -way with
doctors and hospital attendants. For the
fifth time that morning a salvo of burst-
ing shells destroyed the nearest pontoons,
carrying the working-party away with it.
Yet, nothing daunted, fresh pontoons were
pushed off and floated down, and a fresh
company of sappers was there to lash the
stanchions tight.

"They will never do it,*' said the
captain, as it seemed that the latest
effort had failed. "See, they are bring-
ing down reinforcements from the bluff
above us." It was true, — a column of
Russian infantry was debouching from
behind the hills on the opposite bank of
the river, and was moving down to the
threatening bridge. The Japanese gunners
had seen them, and almost immediately
the column was torn and shattered with
bursting shell, btit this counter was not
sufficient to stay the Russian advance.
Down the infantry pressed towards the

THB aAOBIFIOB OF O'TERU SAN. 45

water's edge; so near were they that the
Guardsmen could make out the glint of
the individual bayonets as they glistened
in the mid-day sun.

''Now is our time/' shouted Tanaka;
'' see, here come our oiders.'' A staff officer
galloped up; as he came, the two officers
could see that the last pontoon had floated
into its place, and that by wading it
would be possible for the infantry to
dash across. The staff officer shouted his
orders — " Bridge-head ! Guards, column of
fours from the right."

The suspense was over. In a moment
the battalion was on its feet, and Tanaka
was racing with the men of the leading
section for the bridge. They felt the
pontoon sway under their feet — they
jumped from side to side to avoid the
mangled frames of dead and wounded
sappers. A shell tore up the planks in
fix)nt of them, and spattered them with
the blood and flesh of some luckless

46 THE SA0BI7I0E OF o'tERU SAN.

engineer. Through the cloud of smoke
Tanaka could see that some of his men
fell in the holes, others were hit. Now
they are at the actual bridge-head, thirty
yards of water, how deep, how shallow,
who could say ! All that they could see
were the bayonets of the opposing Rus-
sians. They were almost down to the
water's edge. Tanaka was the first at the
actual bridge-head; what had happened
to his captain he did not know. With
one shout of " Banzai 1" he leapt into the
water, and all that he realised was that
the men were leaping in beside him.
For a moment it was waist-deep, then it
was knee-deep, and now they are on dry
land.

Of the next five minutes who shall
speak accurately? All that Tanaka knew
was that the sword-blade, which had been
in his family for four hundred years,
clashed roughly against a bayonet, and
then fleshed true and hard. The impetus

THE SAORIFIOB OF o'tERU SAK. 47

from the slope above bore him and his
companions back, but they made a stand
at the water's edge, and that stand was
sufBcient to save the bridge-head. Com-
pany after company came splashing through
the water, and soon the Russians were
taking the steel in the back. It was a
horrible mSUe; and when Tanaka really
came to his senses, he was trying to
form up his company amid the smoking
guns of a captured Russian battery, while
a corporal, chattering with excitement, was
binding up his arm with a first field dress-
ing. Until this moment he had not even
known that he was wounded.

There was no paper printed in Japanese
which did not ring with the heroism of
Lieutenant Tanaka of the Guards. There
was hardly a shop-window in Tokyo which
had not a coloured picture detailing the
Lieutenant's heroism at the passage of the
Talu. For the moment there was no more

48 THE SACBIFICB OF o'tERTJ SAN.

honoured name in all Japan. There was
no woman in all the many islands, which
comprise the Far Eastern Empire, prouder
than the little white-skinned Geisha, Teru
San. Now her self - sacrifice seemed as
nothing. Whatever it might have cost,
she had enabled her lover, not only to win
his ambition, but also to place himself in
the history of his country.

She had been making her toilet since
four in the afternoon, for that very day
Tanaka, the wounded hero, had retiuned
to Tokyo. Even as she sat, rubbing the
powder on her cheeks, she could hear the
shouts of the crowd which were according
him a public welcome. It was meet that
she should look her best, for to-day was
to be the greatest day in her life.

The telephone bell rang. Anxiously she
waited for the message. Surely it could
not be Tanaka; it was too soon; he had
not yet had time to think of her. She was
right — it was only a message from the big

THE SACRIFICE OF o'tEBU SAN. 49

rich American who, for the last two months,
had heen lavishing his attentions upon her,
and who was now reduced to such a state
that he had offered to ransom her at what-
ever price her master might name, if only
she would consent to marry him and return
with him to the States. A foreigner for-
sooth ! And Teru San told the maid to
tell the foreigner that she was ill, that she
was out of husiness for an indefinite period
until she should he again convalescent.
She then sat quietly in her room and
waited: it was possibly the happiest ex-
pectation in the whole of her strange and
chequered life.

But her hero never came, even though
she waited until the small hours of the
morning. "He is in the hospital," she
said to herself; ''I shall hear from him
to-morrow." But the morrow brought no
message, and so it went on from day to
day, from week to week, until it was
announced in the * Kokomin Shimbun ' that

50 THE SACRIFICE OF o'tERU SAN.

the hero Tanaka, decorated by the Em-
peror, and now employed on the General
Staff, was betrothed to a daughter of
the quality.

And so it came about that Teru San may
be the mother of American citizens.

THE FOELOBN-HOPE AT KINCHAU.

Ghxvoo, Jwm 1904.

Thbbe Japanese infantrymen leant with
their backs against a greasy sea -rock,
which raised its slimy crest four feet
above the level of the water. The three
little men were in luck, since they were
able to rest their rifles on the rock, while
the less fortunate of their companions,
waist-deep in the water, were wearied to
death in keeping the breeches of their
pieces out of the brine. The three^ seemed
entirely indifferent to the discomfort of
their surroundings, though the whole com-
pany had been wading in the mud -flats
for the last three hours, and was now
halted in a deep pool formed in a sand

52 THE POBLORN-HOPB AT KINCHAU,

depression. They were engaged in a com-
parison of their experiences during the last
twelve hours. To the Western soldier the
experiences of a lifetime would have been
covered in the short space of time taken
by the 4th Division of the Imperial
Japanese army to carry at the point of
the bayonet the walled town of Kinchau.
To the Japanese soldiers it was but a de-
lightful incident in the service which then-
country required of them. Their theme
at the moment was the bloody grips they
had been engaged in dm^ing the morning's
street-fighting in Kinchau. Nor was it idle
boasting, since the stains on the bayonet-
catches of their rifles, blackening in the
sun, gave sickening evidence of the carnage
at which they had assisted. But the cam-
age behind them was nothing to that which
they were to engage in before the sun set.
At the moment the three blue-coated little
soldiers appeared to take no interest in the
lesser holocaust which was even yet taking

THE POBLOBN-HOPB AT KINCHAU. 63

place in the vicinity. They were discuss-
ing the past, which had been washed more
vividly scarlet than the present, between
the mouthfuls of sodden boiled rice which
they scooped in handfuls out of the wicker
satchels suspended to their belts. Such is
the character of the Japanese soldier.

There was the terrifying rush of a great
projectile above their heads. A hissing
plunge, a half-subdued report, lashings of
blinding sea-spray. The thick ranks of the
company fell aside like driven skittles, and
five helpless masses of human flesh bobbed
convulsively in the water, which in patches
showed yellow, brown, and red. A shriek
of derisive laughter from the spectators
who picked themselves whole from the
mSUe was all the dirge vouchsafed to the
victims — more, it was all they would have
desired. Mahtsomoto, the Osaka recruit,
leaned forward from his rock and picked
up the cap of one of his fallen comrades.
He fitted it upon his own head to replace

54 THE FORLOBN-HOPE AT KINCHAU.

that lost in the early morning struggle.
His action appealed to the simple humour
of those round him ; they clapped him on
the back and bubbled with mirth in the
ecstasy of their congratulations. The
mutilated remains floated clear, and the
ranks closed up.

Then an officer came wading through the
sea. He shouted an order to the major
of the battalion. Another order passed
from mouth to mouth down the line of
company ofBcers, and the three little in-
fantrymen had to stow their rice-baskets
away quickly and take their rifles from the
rest which the slimy rock had given them.
The battalion was to move. Where and
how the men in the ranks did not know ;
but as the water descended first to their
knees and then to their ankles, they real-
ised that they were moving oflP to the left,
and to their great joy the direction was
taking them nearer to the Russian position.
As their feet made the dry shore that posi-

THE FOBLOKN-HOPE AT KlKCHAlT. 56

tion became defined to them. There was
no mistaking it, for the gunboats, having
spent the whole morning dragging for
blockade-mines in the bay, had now found
a channel by which they could safely take
advantage of their light draught, and their
shells were bursting all along the summit
of the slope which frowned in front of the
advancing infentry; also, for away to the
left, the dark shadow of Mount Sampson's
slopes was emitting countless little jets of
flame. They came and went almost with
mathematical precision. These jets were
the burning charges of the massed Japanese
field-batteries. They were adding to the
Inferno which crowned the ridges where
the Siberian Bifles, grim, dogged, and
hungry, lay prostrate behind the filled
gabions waiting for the climax which they
knew this fierce cannonade but prefaced.

The advancing infantry could trace the
enemy's position from the bursting of the
Japanese shells, as minutely as if they were

B6 THE FORLORN-HOPB AT KINCHAU.

reading a chart. They could see the great
column of lurid smoke and flame shoot up-
wards as some 6-inch projectile struck the
lip of the parapets ; and as the smoke from
these explosions mushroomed out and hung
as a murky pall above the works, the
darker patches were mottled with the
white smoke -disCs of bursting shrapneL
The din was deafening, for underlying the
deeper detonations was a ceaseless crash of
small-arms, punctuated with the grinding
rattle of automatic weapons.

The infantry battalion began to crawl
upwards as its direction brought it under
the cover of the ridge. It was now cross-
ing ground recently held by the leading
battalion of the 4th Division. The ranks
frequently opened, to avoid trampling upon
the trail of human suffering which marked
the accuracy of Bussian shooting. The
head of the 4th Division had been massed
80 thickly behind the ridge that, at a
glance, it was possible to tell the nature

THB PORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAU. 57

of each projectile that had caused the
ruin. Here an 8-inch Obuchoff had swept
a dozen valiant little bluecoats fipom their
feet, and they lay a mutilated mass ; here
automatic and mitrailleuse had mown down
a file of men, and they lay prostrate or
sat self- dressing theur wounds much a^
they had fallen; and here solitary yellow
&ces, turning tawny grey in death -tint,
told of the Berdan pellet through the
brain. Some few with lesser hurts than
the majority raised their weakening limbs
to cheer their comrades on, and there
seemed to be no tongue, excepting those
for ever still, too parched to articulate
''Banzai!"

''Banzai! Banzai! Banzai!" shouted
Mahtsomoto and his comrades with him
as they leapt from side to side to avoid
a prostrate form, or, little recking of the
pain they caused, in passing seized and
shook some outstretched hand. Who shall
stop such soldiers I What force under

58 THB FORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAU.

heaven can stay men who go forth to
battle in like spirit I Look at the bat-
talion as it passes beneath you. Look at
the midday sun glinting on the points of
the fixed bayonets ; look at the dull black
stains at the root of those same bayonets
— who shall stop them 1 Wait ; in war
there is time for all things I

The companies deploy and lie down on
the unexposed slope of the knoll — it is
nothing more than a knoU— and its summit
is swept with a race of nickel, steel, and
lead. As the men look back they see,
after the last company has deployed and
is flat behind them, that they themselves
have doubled the human wreckage on the
plain. Like the desperate players that
they are, they have doubled the stakes.
The play is high; but they will have to
play higher yet before the game is won —
or lost.

The major is kneeUng at the head of his
prostrate battalion ; a dark little staff-officer

THE FORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAU. 59

kneels at his side. The whistle summons
the company commanders. Upright they
stride over the reclining men. What the
major says the men do not yet know : the
majority do not care; they are lying on
their backs taking in the wonderful scene
behind them.

In front of them are only Russian field-
works, which are contemptible, and glorious
death. Behind them unfolds the panorama
of their beloved country's strength, power,
and — what perhaps does not appeal so
much to them — devotion. To the left is
the great blue shallow bay in which until
recently they were standing. The middle
distance is broken by five gunboats, whose
war-dulled hulls sparkle with the constant
flashes from the guns. The dirty smoke
from their funnels, driven southwards,
mingles with the great sombre pall above
the Russian works, so that the bright sun-
light is scarred with a band of sullen black.
Half a dozen torpedo-boats are circlmg in

60 THB FOBLORN-HOPB AT KINCHAU.

the roadstead, worrying spitefully, like
terriers at a beast at bay, wiUing to strike,
yet conscious of the power of this particular
enemy. Well may they be cautious, for
the surface of the water is torn into spits
of foam, as projectiles fall without inter-
mission in and amongst the ships.

But it is on land that the panorama
is more impressive. Behind the prostrate
troops, from their very feet, almost as far as
eye can reach, the narrow tongue of land is
packed with ma^ of infaiitry. The sun
runs riot upon acres of bared and flashing
bayonets, right away as far as the mud
walls of Einchau, which those very
bayonets had won that morning. Men
and horse, fifty thousand men, massed for
the fleshing, suffering death at random — a
target impossible to miss— untU the moment
shall arrive for them to put their crude
patriotism to the final test.

The company officers return to their com-
mands, and the word passes down the line

THE FORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAU. 61

that the battalion, together with the sister
battalion lying parallel with them on the
left, is to assault the nearest of the Russian
works. "Open up the Eussian forts" is
the expression used, and a suppressed
murmur of " Banzai ! " flickers down the
ranks as the men raise themselves on to
their knees.

" Bight shoulder " a little. It is useless
to make men climb the steeper portion of
the peak. "Bight shoulder!" and the
easier path over the saddle will be found.
One minute, and the men can almost feel
the rush of air from the sleet of projectiles
passing immediately above them ; the next,
and through the gaps torn in the ranks of
the company in front of them they see their
goal, and intuitively make mental measure
of the distance to be crossed. Two hundred
yards to the bottom of the dip— -here the
scattered buildings of a fishing village— and
then four hundred yards of gentle climb to
that sky-line, with its demarcation of un-

62 THE FOBLORN-HOPB AT KINCHAU.

ceasing flashes and its dull yellow -grey
curtain of clinging picric cloud. Above
the thunder of battle — the crash and rattle
of the guns— the grinding of the automatic
death -machines — and the sickening swish
of metal sweeping poor human frames by
scores before it, — rises the full-throated
war-cry of Japan — Banzai! — ^^ Live a
thousand years!" and almost before the
men have realised that they are facing
a tornado, those that have not been
stricken down have reached the cover of
the village.

What a trail they have left behind them I
The rearmost companies have to open out
and direct to right and left, for the slope is
a mosaic of prostrate uniforms. The crash
and racket on their front intensifies, and
beneath the rain of projectiles the meagre
walls of the village crumble and subside.
A haze of sun-baked mud -dust rises from
the subsiding pile, and, clinging in the dead
air, covers somewhat the carnage in its

THE FORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAU. 63

midst. A pent -house falls and crushes
half a platoon beneath it. A bevy of
terror-stricken women and children, bolted
by flame, shell, and sights of death from
their hiding-places, dash blindly for the
open — a moment, and they too swell the
tale of massacre. The full-throated war-cry
of Japan is dead. A thin wail of Banzai !
goes up, an officer seizes the emblem of the
rising sun, and, bending low to meet the
leaden blizzard, dashes for the slope.
Where ten minutes ago he had had a
company to follow him, he now finds ten
or fifteen men. To right and left little
knots, of desperate infantrymen dash out
into the fury of the blast — only to wither
before it. For perhaps ten seconds the
colour is erect and falters onward. Then it
is down. Mahtsomoto is at his captain's
heel : he seizes the loved emblem and raises
it again. He turns back to wave it, and is
swept from his legs; he struggles to his
knees; the flag is upright again, for one

64 THE FORLORN-HOPE AT KINCHAIT.

second only, and then as if by magic the
firing stops, and for one second the Russians
jump up upon their works, and wave their
caps and shout the shout of victory. The
two Japanese battalions which furnished
the forlorn-hope have ceased to exist. The
Russians cheered, and then the Japanese
supporting artillery reopened, and the
struggle returned to its normal state.
The forlorn-hope had failed — but what did
that matter ? were there not forty thousand
as good infantry massed behind the ridge,
prepared to carry on the desperate work
which the two lost battalions had begun?

By sunset the Japanese had carried this
work, and the whole line of Russian
defences went with it.

VIL

THE MILITARY TRIUMVIRATE.

ToKTO, 8M July 1904.

Three men are standing in front of a
large hanging map. The chart is on so
large a scale that it screens the whole ex-
panse of wall at one end of the room. The
shortest of the three men holds a telegram
in his hand, and as he reads from it one of
the members of the Triumvirate runs his
finger along the red line which seems to
biftircate the suspended chart. Having
satisfied themselves that the reading of
the map synchronises with the information
contained in the telegram, the three men
group round the table in the centre of the
room. These three are worthy of close obser-
vation, for they form the Triumvirate that

66 THE MILITARY TRIUMVIRATE.

is ruling Japan's destinies at the present
moment. The small, podgy, pock-marked
man, whom no caricatm*ist could fail to
lampoon as a frog, is Baron Oyama, the
Boberts of Japan. We use the parallel
to our own great soldier only as a figure
of location. In temperament there is no
likeness between the two, except that each
in his respective country is a great soldier.
And what a history lies behind this diminu-
tive field-marshal ! He has seen the latent
fighting strength of his nation develop in
a single generation from the standard at-
tained in the medieval civilisation of the
East to that of a first - class Western
Power; has lived to command it in the
act of overthrowing the vaunted strength
of a Western Power. But to few great
military leaders has such an opportunity
come as has presented itself to the present
generalissimo of Japan's army. Twelve
years ago this very marshal was called
upon to command in the field against the

THE MILITARY TRTOMVIRATB. 67

strength of China. The opening phases
of his present campaign were conducted
over the very ground through which he
then manoeuvred his victorious troops.
Does it come often in the lifetime of a
general to operate twice over the same
squares of the map? In the present
operations the knowledge gleaned in that
first campaign has been worth an army
corps.

The little general seated at the marshal's
right is the Kitchener of Japan. If we had
not known that he was Japanese, his quick
dark eye, dapper figure, and pointed beard
would have led us to believe that he was a
Spaniard, or perhaps a Mexican. General
Baron Eodama is the executive brain of the
Japanese general staff. Of the third mem-
ber of the Triumvirate, however, we have
no parallel in the British army. Like his
illustrious associates, he also is small. He
is fair for a Japanese, and the splash of
grey at either temple enhances the fairness

68 THE MILITARY TRIUMVIRATE.

of his skin. Save for a rare and very
pleasant smile, the face is unemotional
The dark eyes are dreamy, and the poorest
expression of the great brain that works
behind them. This is General Fukushima,
whose genius has been the concrete-mortar
which has cemented into solid block the
rough -hewn material of Japan's general
staff.

These are the three men who hitherto
have repeatedly overthrown Russia's mili-
tary strength in the Far East. And since
the Japanese army of invasion landed in
Korea and Manchuria, it has been this
Triumvirate, first from this very room and
the three adjacent ones, and latterly at the
front, that has controlled the destinies of
the army in the field. This is the Japanese
system, this, perhaps, the secret of the
Japanese success. The strategical factor
in the operations is the general staff,
wherever it may be located. Whether in
Tokyo, in the field, or in Timbuctoo, the

THE MILITARY TBIUMVIRATJB. 69

tactical remains with the generals com-
manding in the field.

There is a key resting in the safe keep-
ing of the chief of the staff which, if it
came into our possession, would disclose
many score of admirable chart& They
are marked in colour, and each set has its
complementary set to meet each conting-
ency that might arise, favourable or un-
toward, even to the invasion of Japan.
Attached are records of the varied supplies
stored within easy rea>ch of the home ports.
Every kind of material that modem fore-
thought has considered necessary for every
contingency in war, — ^from railway material
suited to the plains of Manchuria, and
baulks of timber to furnish platforms for
heavy artillery destined to bombard Port
Arthur, to shore - torpedo tubes prepared
against a hostile landing on the home sea-
board.

These are the three men in the main
responsible for all this, — yet stay with

70 THE MILITARY TRIUMVIRATE.

me a moment more. They are leaving
the modest building which represents
Japan's military strength in Tokyo,— this
building which, though so unpretentious
and insignificant, yet has such a far-reach-
ing shadow, — the marshal and his two
chief lieutenants are leaving it, for to-night
is their last night in the capital ; to-morrow
they will leave Japan to control the des-
tinies of the army in the field. They are
due at a farewell complimentary dinner
given by the heads of sister departments.
Just have one glimpse at them as they
sit on the floor in strange alignment round
the three walls of the banqueting hall.
For the moment all that is of the West
is forgotten ; they are now mere Orientals,
trifling with the dainty Geisha maidens,
plying them with food and drink; they
are entranced with the semi-barbaric danc-
ing of the premiere danseuse of the house
wherein they sup, and they partake of the
merriment of the cup as if there were no

tHB MILITARY tMtJMVIRATB. 71

such distraction in the wide world as war.
Tet even as they sit, there has come to
the men on duty at the War Department
a detail of new ground that has been
broken within two thousand metres of
Port Arthur's outer works, of grim casual-
ties to covering infantry entailed in this
pushing forward of the parallel Never-
theless, as the messenger who brought the
news from the war bureau stands outside
in the passage, sipping the cup of green
tea which some miismd has brought him,
all he hears is the spirited rhythm of the
sAnidsdn. • • •

On the morrow the Ministers Plenipo-
tentiary and Envoys Extraordinary of all
the great Western Powers, glittering in
their bullion- charged dresses, will be pre-
sent on the platform to wish the Trium-
virate "God-speed."

VIIL

A VISIT TO TOGO^S RENDEZVOUS.

Chemulpo, April,

The man at the wheel seemed to be steer-
ing by instinct. It was so dark that, as
we clung to the rail on the bridge, we could
not see the whaleback of the destroyer.
All that we could tell was that we were
passing in through an archipelago of
islands. The false horizon which their
rocky summits from time to time vouch-
safed to us was, however, the only proof
we had of this. The lieutenant-commander
maintained a discreet silence. It was his
business to convey us to the rendezvous
under cover of darkness, not to explain the
intricacies of his uncharted course. He
waB politeness itself, and never tired of

A VISIT TO Togo's RENDBzvoua 73

relating his experiences in the destroyer
fight off Liautishan. Not once, but a dozen
times during our brief stay with him, did
he take us forward and point with pride
at the marks which that struggle had left
upon his boat. His little beady eyes would
sparkle like electric points when he called
to mind the details of that desperate fight-
ing. How it seemed a miracle that the
destroyers had not collided, how the stained
muzzles of the 6-pounders almost touched
as the shell-like vessels came abreast. How
his bridge was torn and scored by splinters.
How his sub-lieutenant and signalman were
carried overboard by the same projectile.
It was all marvellously interesting, but it
was not as interesting in the recital as the
circumstances of our present position. We
were entering the passage which led to the
rendezvous of Admiral Togo's fleet.

It does not matter here who we were or
why we were allowed to make the visit.
But it was so arranged that we boarded

74 A VISIT TO Togo's rendbzvotjs.

the destroyer late in the afternoon, and
it was dark, pitch dark, before we made
the landmarks which would have disclosed
the situation.

Steadily at half speed the destroyer held
on her course. There were no lights, — as
far as we could see there were no points at
all beyond the stars by which the master
could correct his bearings. Silently, almost
weirdly, the long thin streak of a boat
slipped through the water. The sea was
as smooth as a frozen lake. Suddenly the
commander put his hand on the telegraph.
He peered into the darkness ahead, we could
see nothing, but after a moment's hesitation
his hand went down, and almost immedi-
ately we were going foil speed astern.
Then it was, and then only, that we saw
a dim shadow of a body in front of us.
For the first time we descried a light. The
signal lamp was in requisition. A call,
an answer, and then all was darkness again,
and we were going half speed forward past

A VISIT TO Togo's rendezvous. 75

the guardship. Presently, as it were out
of nowhere, we were able to discern the
dim outline of a moving body on either
beam. These outlined into thin long
streaks like unto ourselves. In short, if
the night had not been clear, we would
easily have mistaken them for our own
reflection on the mist. Then from the port
side came a hail. The answer was given
in Japanese, again the telegraph spoke to
the engineer. Slow — and in a few seconds
we were being led by the pilot boat
right in through the lines of Togo's fleet.
It was a strange sensation. Here we
were passing between two lines of giant
engines of war. We could just make out
each indistinct mass that in the darkness
indicated a ship. But there was never a
light and rarely a sound. Once a picket-
launch steamed up quite close to us. We
could hear the pant of her engines and just
make out the suspicion of flame from the
rim of her funnel. Then the pilot boat

76 A VISIT TO Togo's rendezvous.

shouted us clear, and we bore down upon
one of the darker patches. We hoped that
it was the Mikasa, and that we were
destined to spend the night on the flag-
ship. But the commander put our mind
to rest on that point with the simple
information that he was about to tie up for
the night at the torpedo transport. . . .
It has not been given to every one to
witness the victorious Japanese fleet lying
at anchor in its rendezvous. It was a
sight once seen not easily to be forgotten.
The four squadrons lay at anchor in four
lines. Just clear of them lay the trans-
ports, colliers, torpedo transports, and the
dockyard vessels. At the entrance to the
bay lay the guardship and the destroyers.
Three destroyers and one cruiser were on
the mud to facilitate the attentions of the
dockyard hands. Two of the battleships
had colliers alongside, and another of the
colliers was filling the bimkers of two tor-
pedo boats. Across the entrance to the

A VISIT TO Togo's rendezvous. 77

bay one could just make out the faint line
of a boom. Since we had heard so much
of the damage which the Bussian guns had
wrought upon the Japanese fleet we looked
anxiously for evidence of it. As the morn-
ing light strengthened we scrutinised each
battleship in turn. There were six of
them, great gaunt leviathans stripped for
the fray. Though the friendly glass made
each rail and stanchion clear, yet we could
discover no serious trace of this ill-usage
of which we had heard. Then for the
first-class cruisers, they at least had been
knocked to pieces. Here they were, four
of them, anchored line ahead. There was
nothing that the non-professional eye could
detect amiss with their lean symmetry.
The picture was in a manner oppressive :
there was nothing within view that was
not connected with scientific butchery and
destruction in its most ruthless and hor-
rible form. The ships themselves, stripped
of everything that was wooden or super-

18 A VISIT TO Togo's rendezvous.

fluous, gave a morbid impression of merci-
less majesty and might. The nakedness of
their dressing accentuated the ferocity of
the gaping guns. One thought of the
shambles on the main deck of the Variag
and the fate of the Petropavlovsh, and
shuddered. But in all, if not exhilarating,
it was a magnificent picture. And one
bowed in tribute to the diabolical and mis-
applied genius of man. « . .

At three o'clock came the crowning
scene. A signal fluttered up fi:om the
bridge of the flag-ship. As if by one move-
ment the little torpedo craft slipped away
towards the entrance, while the whole air
hummed with the rattle of chain-cables.
Signal after signal from the flag-ship, and
then majestically Admiral Togo took his
fleet out of the rendezvous to do battle
with his country's enemy. This was a
soul-stirring spectacle. • • •

IX.

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

TiNKow, Septemher.

The Foreigner was unutterably bored. Only
those who, buttoned up to the neck in an
absurd tunic, have to attend similar func-
tions in artificially heated saloons, can
realise the boredom bred of a succession
of diplomatic soirees. The Foreigner was
bored. He had nodded to the men he knew
from his Embassy, had bowed himself low in
answer to the courteous salutations of other
foreign mocking-birds like unto himself, had
kissed the tips of the fingers of perhaps two
smiling dames, and was now settled with
his arm on the balustrade waiting until the
season might be seemly for him to slip down
the grand stairway into the cool outside.

80 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE,

The chatter of feminine voices, the
flashing of dazzling jewellery, the nodding
aigrettes, the electro - plated magnificence
of waist-laced cavaliers, interested him no
more. The panoply of peace! He gazed
at the stream of grinning faces as they
moved past him. There was not one that
interested him. He fell musing to himself
Was it a diplomatic reception, was it a car-
nival, or was it a corrohoree — ^the modem
development of those orgies the descrip-
tion of which haul fascinated him in perusal
when a boy ?

There was a temporary dissolution of the
crowd. An archduke or a princess was
passing, and the ushers fought to make a
passage through the throng of gilded guests.
As the way opened the Foreigner caught
sight of a face on the far side of the salon
which seemed to reflect the very thoughts
uppermost in his own mind. A little
swarthy face. A face which, in spite of
the low forehead, beady black eyes, and

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE. 81

Mongolian bluntness, was full of intelli-
gence. At the moment cynical intelligence.
The dwarfish body which supported the
head was clothed in an unobtrusive uniform,
and the little capable fingers of the yellow
hands were playing nervously with a plumed
shako. An impulse seized the Foreigner,
and he walked across the room. Though
he was not acquainted with the little
yellow soldier standing against the salon
wall with his shoulder scarce reaching
to the dado, yet he knew him to be an
extra-attachd to the Japanese Legation,
and his own thoughts seemed to be so
accurately reflected in the expression on
the stranger's face that the Foreigner was
drawn towards him.

At the first salutation the diminutive
attach^ started visibly, and, taken im-
awares, bowed deeply and apologetically,
as is the custom of his people. The
Foreigner uttered a few commonplaces in
the diplomatic tongue, which resulted in

82 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

more nervous agitation of the shako. It
was evident that the little man did not
understand. He glanced furtively up into
the bigger man's face, smiled inanely, and
drew in his breath between his teeth. The
Foreigner tried English and German in
turn, but their use elicited no reply beyond
the deliberately sucked-in breath. An awk-
ward silence, and then the little attach^
thrust his hand in his breast-pocket and
produced a card. This was handed to the
Foreigner with a courtly bow. It read —

Lieutenant H, Kamimoto^

Imperial Japanese Army,

The Foreigner bowed, shook hands with his
tiny acquaintance, and then, the time being
propitious, passed out into the cool of night,
hailed a fiacre, and drove home. The little
olive face remained in his mind, the ex-
pression of cynicism he had first seen in it,
the instant change to apologetic courtesy,
as soon as he spoke, and the depth of intelli-

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE. 83

gence contained in the eyes, which for the
rest had an uninteresting setting.

• •••••••

Three years later the Foreigner found
himself among the guests at a midsummer
party. After the usual compliments, he
accompanied his hostess into the garden,
where the younger folk were disporting
themselves upon the tennis-courts. For a
moment the Foreigner was left alone to
watch the play. A lithe little figure in
flannels was the heart and soul of the game.
Few could persevere against his returns,
none place a ball beyond his reach. His
play was an exhibition of marvellous skill,
the subtle strength of controlled energy.

"Who is your dark little Renshaw?"
asked the Foreigner as he rejoined his
hostess.

" That is Mr Kamimoto, a Cambridge
friend of Georges. He is a Japanese;
doesn't he play a splendid game, and such
a funny little fellow too?"

84 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

Kamimoto, and the mental vision of the
Foreigner went back to the little apologetic
figure with nervous fingers playing round
the edge of a ftill-dress shako.

The set was over, and when the con-
gratulations had lulled the Foreigner had
a look at the little olive face. It was the
same, only the cynical suggestion of superi-
ority had gone out of it. The infinite
courtesy remained. Presently the Foreigner
was able to step to the little man's side.
He put out his hand to him.

" Have we not met before ? "

A smile flickered under the stiff little
impertinence of a moustache, and the
answer came in perfect English.

" You have often called at the Japanese
Legation : perhaps you have seen me there."

" No ; Paris, I think 1 "

The breath was drawn in between the
closed teeth. ** Tou are, I think, mistaken.
We Japanese are so much alike. I have
never been in Paris.' This answer given,

THE PATH IN THB EAST IB STRANGE. 85

the little man threw the Foreigner a signal
glance which he understood. A soldier's
freemasonry. The Foreigner understood,
and as he moved away, he noticed that
though the little attach^ appeared quite at
ease with the men, yet he was awkward in
his courtesy to the daughters of the house
who flitted round him with refreshments.
The Foreigner's interests were aroused.
He would cultivate this little oddity, who
was an attach^ to a legation one year and
a Cambridge undergraduate the next, and
who politely denied past acquaintances.
The Foreigner moved aside to do his duty
by his hostess and her daughters, and
wherever he turned he noticed that Kam-
imoto was observing him.

Later in the evening, when the guests
were retiring early in anticipation of a
long day's boating picnic on the morrow,
the Foreigner found little Eamimoto at his
elbow. "May I come to your room and
talk to you before we turn in?"

86 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

" Certainly, I shall be more than pleased."
Five minutes later they were seated on a
sofa in the Foreigner s bedroom.

"Well, my student -militant, explain it
all. What is the reason of the present
masquerade?" and the Foreigner greeted
the little attach^ with a genial slap on the
knee.

The breath was drawn in again. It
might have been that the familiarity was
resented, or— and this is more probable— it
gave the speaker an extra second to debate
his answer.

" It means that the educational institu-
tions of England are suitable to the im-
provement of my mind ! "

" But such improvement as you desire is
surely not found in the Universities — the
military academy and college would seem
to be more in your particular line? Re-
member there was a first lieutenant's braid
on that shako in Paris."

The smile, which immediately drives out

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE. 87

the unintelligent look from the average
Japanese face, flickered for a moment, and
then the attach^ answered, " You are very
clever to remember that. But you know
that your military institutions are dosed
to me."

'' My dear sir, you can go and see them
any day you like. I can arrange—!"

" You are very good, and I thank you,
but you couldn't arrange for me to become
an inmate — a cadet, feUow of your cadets.
I expect that I know all that could be
learned through the 'open door.' It is
the shut door that I must study."

" But being a soldier — why try the Uni-
versities? In their educational attain-
ments they profess to despise us. We are
to them no more than the blue-bloused
butcher — a very necessary evil, necessary
to the economy of life — salaried assassins ! "

" But you draw your officers from the
same class as fills your Universities. You
even have University candidates. It is

88 THE I»ATH IK THE EAST IS STRANGE.

not the system so much as the man that
I desire to know/'

" To what end ? "

" There is only one end for us Japanese :
that is the service of our country."

" How long have you been at Cam-
bridge ? "

" Two years : my period there is now
finished. I seek a new field 1 "

" And that is ? "

'*The reason of my coming to see you
here to-night!"

There was a pause : the Foreigner looked
earnestly at his little companion. It was
evident that he was working upon some
line, and the Foreigner was not quite satis-
fied that the line was unmasked.

"Anything I can do?" was tamely in-
terpolated.

"You can supply what I most want, —

I wish to see the life of your people as you
see it."

" Certainly ; if you will revert to your

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE. 89

military rank, I will have you put up for
my club ! "

Kamimoto shook his head. "I have
already received that honour. As far as
your *open door' is concerned I know
most things. I have moved about your
service clubs, meeting with courtesy on
every hand. The courtesy that chills,
that brackets one in the estimation of your
countrymen with a little pi^e of lacquer.
I am interesting because I am Japanese
and small of stature. Finding no sym-
pathy among the Englishmen of my own
calling, I tried the womea What was
open to me? The women of the streets.
There was nothing there. Then I tried
your colleges. Perhaps that was better;
but your young men are such children.
One tires of them. And even though I
can equal them in all their games, and
maybe pass them in their work, yet I am
to them the little piece of bric-a-hrac
stiU."

90 THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE.

The Foreigner leaned back in his chair
.nds.iled.'Ths.u.,.«unn.a«kingit-
self. " Surely you are not suffering under
the lash of forced abnegation : is not humil-
ity, when working in the public cause, the
great characteristic of you Japanese — the
main doctrine of your far-famed chivalry ? "

The little man's eyes sparkled like coals
of fire.

" I know to what you refer. The whim-
sical ethics of some past age. Conditions
that are as traditional as your own age of
knightly chivalry, but which are sufficiently
fanciful to prey upon the imagination of
such countrymen of yours, who, living
amongst us, have succumbed to the spell
of the artistic beauties of our country.
But believe me, good friend, this brush-
business in cheap - coloured virtue is as
painful to us as the patronising tolerance
which classifies us as children. Only let
me know you, and I will disabuse your
mind of the many Japanese fables which

THE PATH IN THE EAST? IS STRANGE. 91

pervert the understanding of the Western
world. If all our antiquaries were not
foreigners, this load of libel would not
have been added to the burden which my
country has to bear." The line was now
unmasked, and from that day there sprang
up between the Eastern and Western
soldier a friendship which ripened into
affection as months cemented the ac-
quaintance.

• •••••••

Kamimoto was sitting in the Foreigner's
rooms in Jermyn Street. It was not the
same Kamimoto we had known a year be-
fore. In rank, in stature, in dress even,
it was the same man. But in expression
of face it was another. The face was the
true type of the Japanese Samurai aristo-
crat, but it was the face of the Japanese
aristocrat who had conquered the mysteries
of the West.

Kamimoto blew the ash off the end of
his cigar before he answered the question

92 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

which the Foreigner had put to him. Then
he answered in that grave manner which
characterised his more thoughtful conver-
sation, " You are in error. If you consider
that our national morality as typified by
our diplomatic morality is based upon, or
even influenced by, the old doctrines, then
you pay a poor compliment to those doc-
trines, and upset the laboured calculations
of those foreigners who find in the fashion-
able idiosyncrasy of a past age an ideal
standard for modern moulding. Don't be
gulled by the enthusiasm of fanatical
savants. There is one creed which rules
all Japanese public morality. Balance the
chances, and then pursue the wisest course.
All conditions must be subservient to the
means by which you attain and maintain
the wisest course. Take for instance our
alliance with you. You and I have split
a bottle over this diplomatic issue. In
common with the beetles that crawl, you
believe that we have both served our own

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STflANOB. 93

ends by this diplomatic stroke. What your
aims are I suppose only your diplomats
Isiiow ; what are the aims of Japan every
Japanese knows. This alliance, for the
nonce, was, to all intents and purposes,
the wisest course, for it was the only
course. But it is not what we desired
most. Tou come into it as far as we are
concerned as a Hobson's choice. It would
have suited us better to have eflFected the
alliance with Bussia which Ito failed to
negotiate. This alliance would have been
offensive against you. Having with Russia's
aid undermined your power in the Far East,
we could have dealt with Russia in our
own time. We do not fear Russia, and
we have cause for our confidence. This
will soon be brought home to you as the
outcome of this new alliance, in spite of
the fact that it has been heralded by you
as a guarantee for the peace of the East
in the immediate future. Are you so blind
as not to see that our aspirations to blot

94 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

you out, our main menace in the Far East,
failed through Russia's rapacity. Well, her
blood be upon her own head ; but there are
those who wish it had been the other way.
Come, let us drink another bottle to the
alliance, and * our enemies our friends.' "

" I wish you would not talk such non-
sense in such a serious tone : you almost
make me believe that you mean what you
are saying ! "

A smile flickered across Kamimoto's face.
" In which you have the true diplomatic
force. That is one thing you Englishmen
cannot teach us. You can teach us how
to bund ships and guns, to make armour-
plate and gas-engines, but you can teach
us nothing in diplomacy. The pop of that
cork proves it. We will drink to our
alliance, with three times three ! "

The world has revolved for another year.
The Foreigner's headquarters were now at
Tientsin, His country had required his

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE. 95

services in the field for Military Intelli-
gence which North China had opened up.
Trouble was in the air, and an anaemic
Cabinet was now in terror lest the diplo-
matic stroke which eighteen months ago it
had vaunted as a peace-ensuring measure
should prove diametrically the opposite. The
Foreigner, in the pursuance of his duties,
found himself at Port Arthur. His mission
was that of a coal-contractor, his bearing
that of a British officer. His disguise
would not have deceived an Englishman,
therefore the fact that he was not inter-
fered with meant that the police had al-
ready sampled him and found him harmless.
The Foreigner felt that his chin was
rough, so he turned into the first hair-
dresser's that the highway presented, which
looked both respectable and clean. It was
a Japanese institution. The majority of
petty industries on the Bussian - Man-
churian seaboard are Japanese. The
Foreigner looked for a chair. For the

96 THE ?ATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

moment there was none. Four Russian
officers from the garrison were fiUing
heavily all the available space. The
Foreigner knew sufficient Russian to war-
rant his being discovered as an English-
man if he attempted to speak it in Port
Arthur. He was surprised at the freedom
of speech of the Russian officers with
regard to their professional duties. It
seemed that this hairdresser's was a sort
of morning club-house. Vodka and beer
could be served from an auherge next door.
In due course the Foreigner took his pl6U3e
in the chair. One look in the cheval-glass,
and in his surprise he nearly jumped out
of the seat. There behind him, lather and
brush in hand, and a spotless apron round
his waist, stood Kamimoto.

" Shave or hair cut, sir ? "

The Foreigner composed himself in a
moment, and settled back in his chair.
He was reflecting. Kamimoto's question
had shown him that, though he was

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE. 97

masquerading as a German coal-merchant,
it was patent to all that he was British ;
while here stood his Japanese prototype,
a perfect barber, reading the minds of the
Bussian officers from morning tiU night.
The barber's own words came back to
him. " You can teach us how to make
armour-plate and gas-engines, but you can
teach us nothing in diplomacy!"

As Kamimoto handed the Foreigner a
towel he said, " If you are staying in the
hotel, I can come and shave you before
breakfast. Very good, sir, what number?
— 23 — ^very good. 7 o'clock to-morrow.
Good morning, sir — thank you ! '*

The Foreigner left marvelling greatly.

The Foreigner was again desperately
bored. His Government, seeing that he
had knowledge of Russia and Bussian
Manchuria, had selected him to represent
them with the Japanese Army. He, with
some fifteen other foreigners, as weary of

98 THB PATH IN THE BAST IS STBANOB.

life as himself, had now been with the
Japanese Army the matter of a month
or so. Courteous discourtesy hedged them
in on every side. They were within sight
of everything that they came to see, yet
they saw nothing. Everything had to be
done by rule. On the march the horses
must proceed at a walk, and no foreigner
might be out of sight of the interpreter
told off to dry-nm'se him. For three long,
hot, desperate weeks they had been con-
fined within the four walls of a filthy
Manchurian town. Many of the number
were down with abdominal complaints bred
of bad feeding, want of exercise, and
mental annoyance. Tet the Japanese
officer in charge brought his spurred heels
together with a snap, bowed low, smiled
his superior smile, and expressed his sym-
pathy. This sympathy was as insipid and
cheap as the thin Japanese imitation of
lager which the unwilling hosts produced
on feast-days.

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANOE. 99

The Foreigner was walking moodily and
in solitude round the broad rampart of the
town. Every indication of war stretched
away to the north. But it was not for
him. A sabre clinked behind him. He
imagined it was worn by some officious
sentry sent to chase him from the wall,
and he refused to turn. Then an arm was
slipped through his. He turned. It was
Kamimoto.

The little soldier looked hard and fit.
He was less sleek, it is true ; but his eyes
showed that he was more a man than
when he had shared the Foreigner's rooms
in Jermyn Street. The star and three
tapes on his sleeve showed that he now
commanded a company. The Foreigner
took the delicate little hand and shook it
warmly. The beady eyes twinkled.

"Aha! it is not all beer and skittles,"
Kamimoto said, smiling.

"The beer is not beer, and there are
no skittles."

100 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

Eamimoto looked serious a moment, then
he said, '^I had heard this; I feared as
much. It was foolish of you to come.
Do you not remember all that I used to
tell you in England, You thought I was
deceiving you. That shows that I knew
you better than you knew me. We
Japanese know you foreigners better than
you know us. Hence the fact that you
look darkly towards our outposts and
almost wish that you were a Russian.
But I liked you too well to deceive you.
As you know, I am not of the bigoted
anti - foreign section. If we had done
worse than we have at present, if we
should chance do worse ultimately, I shall
be ruled out by the popular feeling of my
own country. That is, if the bloody work
ahead should spare me. But it is all
wrong, all this slaughter !"

" What have you seen ? — what have
you been in?"

"I — I, the Eamimoto that you know,

THE PATH IK THE EAST IS STRANGE. 101

have been in nothing; but my company
was at Nanshan, Telitz, Tashichaou, and
Haicheng. It has lost 90 per cent of its
original strength. What do we gain?
Knowledge of the truth of the belief that
we are better men than the foreigner
whom we were bred to despise! If we
were so assured of this fact, why should
we purchase the proof at a price that
must eventually tell against us. No; I
am Samurai enough to do my duty. But
I have sipped of the West long enough
to value the lives of my fellows more
than the aggrandisement of a particular
selfish and hidebound sect. Do you not
know what success spells for Japan?
Militarism, the curse of the past, will be
the curse of the future, and its new
foimdations will be Japanese and Russian
tombstones "

" Come, come, Eamimoto ; this is strange
talk, coming as it does fi^m you.''

The little man burst out laughing.

102 THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE.

"Forget it, then. But how about your-
self? "

"I — well, I have seen nothing. **

" What do you wish to see ? — surely
in another's quarrel a telescope is good
enough."

The Foreigner put his hand on his
little friend's shoulder. "Can I not give
you back your words, Eamimoto? you
should know me better than that."

Eamimoto was silent for a moment; he
was gazing into the distance. Presently
he turned to the Foreigner.

"Remember," he said, "that I am a
Japanese officer, and I possess, perhaps,
Japanese secrets. But I will do for you
all that I can. I came to see you to-day
because I felt for you in the trouble
which I knew, and many of us knew, was
gnawing at your heart. Now, look where
I point. Do you see that long low ridge
of down, the one to the left of the two
peaks with a saddle between them 1 " The

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STBANGE. 103

Foreigner nodded assent. "You see the
whole plain covered with tall, waving
houliangf Well, on the day when they
let you march out of here it will be easy
for you to lose yourself in the kouliang;
try and reach that down just before sun-
down. And now, sayonara ! " He saluted
the Foreigner gravely, and in a moment
had slipped down the ramp. It must
have cost him much to tell even so
little. What a quaint paradox was this
little scrap of an infantry captain !

The Foreigner felt that there was truth
in his friend's remark, to the effect that
a man was a fool to court hurt in another's
quarrel. All through the long day, as he
had lain with his body squeezed against
the squelching sides of a two -foot mud
head- cover, this thought had been forced
upon him a hundred times. He was in
the front line of a great battle. The
ceaseless screech and whirr of countless

104 THfi I>ATH IN tHfi EAST IS STRANGE.

shells passing backwards and forwards
overhead was sufficient evidence of this,
even if at the moment, five yards away,
two little Japanese infantrymen had not,
with their shoulders, been levering the
eorpse of a comrade on to the mud
parapet to make the head - cover better.
Even if behind a Chinese grave - mound,
ten yards in front of him, a hard - hit
sous - officier had not been nursing a
horrible wound, the excruciating agony
of which, though it could draw no sound
from the tortured man's tongue, caused a
thin blue stream of blood to trickle from
the suflPerer's lip, bitten through and
through.

There was a lull in the din of war. A
restful lull, broken now only by the song
of the bullet, slapping its way through the
millet-stalks, or sousing into the wet mud
with a sound that reminded the Foreigner
of a horse landing in bog. The din of
battle! Only those who lie in the firing-

THE PATH IN TH£ SA8T IS STRANOE. 105

line and hear the constant screech of the
shell as they cleave their terrible way
through the air above know the true
sounds of modem war. The whip- like
smack of the bursting shell, the swish of
the scattering bullets, are nothing to the
mocking screech of these damned messen-
gers of death pursuing each other, as if
in competition to complete the awful object
of their hideous mission. The whole
welkin is discordant with their tumult ;
you feel the rush of misplaced air, splinters
sing in your ears, the earth is in constant
tremble with the violence of the discharge ;
you feel it pulsate against your cheek
pressed to the moist mud of the parapet,
and then a bullet saps the life-blood of the
comrade whose elbow has touched yours
day and night for forty hours. There is
a limit to human endurance in these
straits.

There was a lull, and the Foreigner
peeped over the parapet which sheltered

106 THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE.

him, and communed with himself. Here
he was, like Uriah of the Holy Writ, in
the forefront of the battle. What had he
seen? What could he see? He peered
through the stalks of the millet. Ten
yards from the trench the crops had been
cut — the fallen plants showing that neces-
sity, not season, had caused their downfall.
Beyond the cut millet, 800 yards away,
was a gentle turf rise. Then a sky-line.
That was all, if he excepted the entangle-
ment at the foot of the rise. This could
not escape his view, for the barbed wires
were hung like a butcher's shop with forms
that had once been men. The firing recom-
menced. Surely he would have done better
not to have accepted his friend's hospitality,
and to have remained upon an eminence in
the rear with the staff. There was a shrill
burst of laughter at his side ; a wretched
soldier had been shot through the brain,
and his comrades gave vent to their over-
strained feelings in hideous mocking merri-

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STKANGB. 107

ment at the contortions which a shocked
nerve-system forced from the lifeless limbs.

• •••• •••

Day was just breaking. Kamimoto took
the Foreigner by the shoulder and woke
him up. "There is some food now; you
had better take something, for who shall
say when we may move again or find food."
It would have been hard to recognise in
Kamimoto, as he now stood, the Cambridge
undergraduate of a few years ago. He was
still mild in manner, but his cheeks were
drawn and sunken with privation and sleep-
lessness ; his uniform— he was a chef^de^
bataillon now, where he had been a com-
pany commander three days ago — was torn,
dirty, and weather-stained. A dull brown
patch above his belt showed where a bullet
that travelled round his ribs had bled him.
The toes of his boots and the knees of his
overalls were worn through by the rough
scarps of the hill-sides ; even the scabbard
of his two-handed sword, the blade of

108 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

which had been wielded by Kamimotos of
his house for six hundred years, was scarred
and fiiction>marked« Yet withal, save for
his eyes, he was mild and even feminine in
appearance.

The Foreigner sat up and partook of the
sodden rice that served this little residue
of a battalion for food. They were still
among the corn-stalks, but in a very dif-
ferent place to that in which the Foreigner
had received his baptism in Russian fire.
Since that day he had seen Kamimoto lead
five forlorn-hopes that had failed. He had
seen half the battalion blotted out amid
the entanglements, and had followed the
remaining half over the Russian breast-
works, and on, on into the plain, to the
little rise upon which they now lay. They
had reached it in time to throw up the
sketchy trenches, in which the Foreigner,
dead-beat, had cast himself down to snatch
a moment's sleep.

" Eat, and pray your gods that you may

THE PATH IN THB BAST IS STRANGE. 109

never see the like of this again. Think
of death in thousands, and wish for peace,
pray for peace, work for peace ! " And the
little officer mixed some tepid green tea
with his rice, as is the custom of his
country. The Foreigner had no comment
to make. He had seen his fill of death,
of suffering, and human tribulation during
the past three days.

A man hurried back from the sentry-
line, and shooting a suspicious look at the
Foreigner, whispered in his commander's
ear. He repeated his story twice, and with
a smile and apology Kamimoto left his
European friend and dived into the corn-
stalks in the direction of the outpost-line.

The Foreigner continued his meal, and
then, expert that he was, little evidences
around him could not fail to warn that
something unusual was happening. The
S(yus - offiders went round and awakened
such men as were sleeping. These jumped
up, clutched their rifles, and disappeared

110 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

into the cover to the north. Others came
back for ammunition-bags, and a support
came up from the rear. Unable to resist
that magnetism which takes men into
danger zones, even against their better
judgment and often their design, the For-
eigner also dived into the corn - stalks.
Thirty yards and he had reached a firing-
line. It was lying down, — a glance told
the expert it was endeavouring to make
itself as invisible as possible, — each man
was in the posture of a hunter who feels
that perhaps he is too near to the wind
to successfully stalk a timid quarry. The
Foreigner threw himself into the line, and
then wriggling forwards saw what the men
saw.

The little rise commanded a funnel-
shaped depression through which the
Liao-yang road struggled. It was a
poor road, but on either side of it the
corn had been pulled and cast by ruthless
hands into the rut -morass to make the

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE. Ill

going finner. For half a mile it was
possible to trace the roadway as it wound
along the base of this little amphitheatre,
then it was lost in the standing millet.
Along this track a weary column was
plodding. The Foreigner looked, and
rubbed his eyes. It was a Russian column.
There w» »o misinterpreti„g tbe white
tunios «.d blue breeehel no Itaking the
figures which loomed colossal in comparison
with the little fellows with whom he lay.
A counter-attack? His trained eye told
him that the dejected movement of the
draggled column savoured not of aggres-
sion. The men's rifles were across their
backs and their pale worn faces were
whiter than their blouses. There was no
speech, no sound other than the squelching
of their boots in the mire. A surrender?
No man came forward to arrange quarter
for men too tired, too whipped and beaten,
to defend themselves. No Japanese went
forward to recommend to them such mercy

112 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

as they had earned. A misdirected column?
That was it.

The thought just flashed through the
Foreigner's brain, when the voice of the
chef-de-hataillon rose superior to the silence.
The rifles crashed like one. The Russian
column stopped dead in its tracks. The
leading fours were so close that the
Foreigner could see the look of amazement,
horror, and despair upon the blanched
features of the wretched men. Then as the
magazines ground out their leaden ava-
lanche, the leading fours tried to surge
backwards, tried to save themselves in
flight. It was awful ! — the rifles made no
smoke to hide the hideous spectacle ; it was
like the execution of a bound man. Flight
was impossible, for the magnitude of the
confusion prevented retreat or retaliation.
The little Japanese, shouting and jeering,
were now upon their feet and redoubling
the rapidity of their fire. With blanched
cheek and set teeth the Foreigner watched

THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANQB. 113

this terrific curtain to the bloody drama
in which he had participated. He saw the
white tunics melting into the mud like
snow under a sleet shower. He saw a mad
rush towards the cornstalks baulked by the
intensity of the fire. He saw such of the
Russians as remained upon their feet throw
their arms into the air and stretch out their
naked hands towards the rifles that were
annihilating them. Their shrieks were in
his ears. Then as if by magic the firing
stopped. A little figure — he knew it well,
the whole battalion knew it — leaped in
fi:ont of the firing. For a moment the face
was turned towards the Foreigner. The
mildness, the culture, the charm were gone :
animal ferocity alone remained. It was
Eamimoto as he would have been a hundred
years ago. His two-handed sword was bare
in his hand. He raised it gleaming above
his head and dashed down into the amphi-
theatre. Like a pack of hounds his men
streamed down after him. The Foreigner

114 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

covered his face with his hands. The end
was too terrible. He turned and fled back
to the trench. Here he collected his rain-
coat and water-bottle, and then, with the
horrible picture ever before him, went south
to collect his thoughts.

The Foreigner was still lost. Fighting
had prevented him from rejoining after
witnessing the untoward end of the Russian
battalion. He found food and lodging for
the night with some Buddhist monks, and
at daybreak on the following morning, now
that the enemy had completely evacuated
it, climbed to the nearest position. A
Japanese fatigue-party was toiling, — carry-
ing the corpses of their comrades up the
slopes. At the top stood Kamimoto. The
same old smile, the same pleasant, mild,
and friendly Kamimoto. He greeted the
Foreigner warmly; but no reference was
made between the two to the yesterday.

THE PATH IN THE BAST IS STRANGE. 115

His men were carrying corpses up the
hill and throwing them mto the enemy's
trench to mingle with the Russian dead.

"Would it not have been simpler to
have burned or buried them at the foot
of the rise ? " the Foreigner asked in all
simplicity.

"Of course; but you must remember
that at ten o'clock their excellencies the
honourable foreign attaches will come round
to see the positions which our infantry won
with the bayonet. Therefore, most honour-
able Foreigner, it were better that you
went back to your camp. It would not
please any of the staff to know that you
had already been here. It is very un-
fortunate that one so humble as myself
should have to request your honourable
good self to remove I "

There was a merry twinkle in Eami-
moto's eye. But he was expecting an
officer from the staff immediately. The

116 THE PATH IN THE EAST IS STRANGE.

Foreigner made his way down the hillside
deep in thought. The speculation upper-
most in his mind was whether Kamimoto
would have the first field-dressings taken
off those corpses.

117

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY.

TsiN-TAU, September.

The flag- lieutenant leaned wearily on the
rail. It would have been difficult to ade-
quately analyse his thoughts. They were
conjured up by the weariness of life which
possessed his body, and the fierce despair
Ld utter humaiation which had orusL
his soul. The rim of the beam from the
search-light on Grolden Hill, as it was light-
ing the water-way for the passage of the
last of the battleships, flooded the super-
structure of the flagship as she rode at
anchor. Yet it was more than the in-
tensity of the unnatural light that blanched
the faces of the little group of officers on
the bridge. It was not fear, — Russians are

118 THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY.

not cowards : besides, the officers of the
Russian Pacific Squadron were past fear.
It was the utter hopelessness which know-
ledge of physical incompetency breeds in
the vicinity of death. The crestfallen con-
sciousness of impotency that might be seen
in the face of an inexpert motorist if the
chauffeur suddenly had fainted; but not
what one would have anticipated in the
faces of men to whom a great nation still
looked for the successful shaping of its
destinies.

It was a weird scene. Three great white
beams of light pierced a backgroimd that
was otherwise impenetrable in its inky
blackness. They focussed their concentra-
tion upon one point, and illuminated with
dazzling contrasts the gaunt hull and heavy
tops of a battleship in their every detail, as
with laborious toil it was towed between
the artificial sags, — legacies of Japanese
efforts to obstruct the fairway. In jfront of
it three laimches were dragging a mine-

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY. 119

trawl. The busy panting of the tugs and
the swirl of the water beneath the trawl-
hawser were the only sounds in the
vicinity. But other noises punctuated the
stillness of the night,— there was ever
present the dull reverberation of the
Japanese shells from the investing lines,
as they burst with maddening monotony
on the hill -crests of the outer defences.

Just for a moment the rim of the beam
had rested on the flagship, then its focus
was readjusted, and all was darkness, except
where the moving vessel glided past, con-
juring up the vision of some spectre craft in
a grim stage setting. It glided past until
it was two cables' length distant from the
flagship. Then three or four short sharp
orders in a deep voice. One tug at least
seemed to redouble its panting, and the
jarring rattle of metal links told that the
warship was anchoring. Almost immedi-
ately a light was shown from a casemate on
the main-deck of the flagship, and as if by

120 THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY.

magic the beams of the search-lights dis-
appeared.

The flag-captain who was standing by the
Admiral called the flag-lieutenant by name.
Only the first half of the diflSculties were
over. The lesser had been accomplished,
but the greater was to come. The flag-
lieutenant took his orders, and moved
lethargically down the ladder. A launch
was piped to the gangway, and in two
minutes he was on his way to give direc-
tions to the trawlers. They would now
be required to cover the advance of the
squadron as it felt its way to the open sea.
What werQ the risks of the home waters in
comparison to the open sea ! Presently the
flash-lights burst up again. Now the re-
flectors threw the faltering beams well out
to sea. It was essential that the adven-
turous squadron might lie unseen in the
shadow of complementary darkness. The
lights now traversed as in normal circum-
stances, lest the reconnoitring torpedo craft

THE PALL OP THE MIGHTY. 121

from the blockading squadron should become
suspicious. As soon as the trawlers were
in position the flag-ship showed a stem
light, and the sound of her windlass con-
veyed to the squadron the order for the
momentous movement.

Daylight, and a thick haze. Thank Pro-
vidence for the haze. Might it hold until
they made the Shantung promontory ! The
flag -lieutenant was still leaning over the
bridge-rail. You could now see his features
clearly. The estimate formed in the fierce
beam of the search-light had not been un-
just. He was a tall spare youth, fined
down now below his normal standard by
the distressing tension of adverse war. His
aristocratic features were drawn and pinched.
His auburn beard was touzled and unkempt
in its niggard growth ; great dark rings
encircled his blue eyes. His uniform was
in keeping with his featurea His duck
trousers suggested rather the epgineer on

122 THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY.

watch than the staff officer on the bridge.
Tet in his state he was in sympathy with
the crew lying wearily at their stations.
Few were sleeping. The Pacific squadron,
from Admiral to coal-trimmer, was in no
mood for sleep that morning. Thank Pro-
vidence only for the mist !

The squadron crept on — the battleships
in line ahead, the cruisers following in
similar formation. The sea was smooth :
it usually is so when the land mists lie,
but in the fleecy cloud scud and heaving
swell there were evidences of approaching
wind. Presently a torpedo-boat appeared
ahead. It was steaming at its utmost
speed, as the great wave breaking over its
whale -back showed. A desperate Jap?
No ; only a report from the line of scouts
ahead. The flags were fluttering from the
tiny mast. The mist rendered the bunting
indistinct. But in a minute the scout
was abreast, and the megaphone told the
story : " A division of Japanese torpedo-

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY. 123

boats, an exchange of shots, and the escape
of the hostile boats " !

The Admiral bit his lip. It was not
unexpected, but he had hoped that the
mist might have shielded him longer. The
gamble was over now : he must turn back
immediately, or stand on to fight. The
torpedo lieutenant was at his elbow, with
a long thin strip of paper in his hand. He
had come from the wireless chamber, and
the paper was what the machine had
recorded. It was a jumble of dots and
dashes. The message was Japanese. It
did not matter that it was in cipher; the
Admiral could read the history the tape
related as clearly as if it had been in his
own language. It meant that the Japanese
patrol-boats had made his movement out.
That they had raced to the guardship with
the news, and that the guardship was now
transmitting it, as fast as the wireless
spark could make it, to the Japanese fleet
lying under steam in the Elliott Group.

124 THE FALL OP THE MIGHTY.

It meant that the Bussian fleet must turn
back now, or stand on to fight. The
Admiral looked over the head of the tor-
pedo lieutenant and gazed out to sea. The
mist was disappearing. A south-westerly
breeze was rolling it up into the Man-
churian coast. The Admiral bit his lip,
but no sign on his wan pale face gave
evidence of the struggle that was throbbing
in his mind. He turned and looked down
the line of battleships of his command.
One, two, three, four, five! His decision
was made in that moment. He would
stand on : steer for the Korean Straits if
he could ; fight if he must !

The mist had lifted, and the sun shone
brightly overhead. The swell just moved
to the temper of the freshening breeze, and
the yellow sea for once was blue. The
Russian flagship stood on her course. She
was stately, though weather-stained; but
in her stripped decks and towering super-

THE FALL OF THB MIQHTY. 125

structure she showed nothing of the battle
scars which distinguished the lean-huUed
cruiser flag-ship now abreast on the star-
board beam. The flag-ship was fresh from
the dockyard, while the cruisers had borne
the brunt of six months' war. The Ad-
miral was manoeuvring a fleet for the first
time in his life. How soon would he be
manoeuvring it in the presence of the
enemy !

The answer came almost at once. The
navigating officer reported Encounter Bock
on the port bow ; at the same moment the
officer in the foretop shouted down that he
could make out a heavy cloud of smoke
rising above the silver belt of mist which
still clung to the north-eastern horizon. It
might or it might not be the torpedo craft,
who since daylight had been as tenacious
to the movements of the squadron as pilot-
fish. Every glass was turned in the
direction indicated— every glass with the
exception of the Admiral's : he stood

126 THE PALL OP THB MIGHTY.

against the rail with his hands clasping
the metal bar behind him. Only the yeo-
man of the signals, with the slack of the
halyards across his palm, could see that the
long pale fingers were convulsively closing
and opening their hold. To the rest of the
little group on the bridge the Admiral's
pale impassive features conveyed no inkling
of the fearfiil anxiety that was battling in
his mind. The great engines ground on
below, making their sixteen knots, and
each revolution seemed to smite the Ad-
miral as he awaited the verdict of the
watchers.

The mystery of the smoke was not long
in discovering itself. The breeze was still
chasing the mist northwards, and the masts
and tops of Togo's battle squadron separ-
ated quickly from the silver fog. Six
vessels steaming line ahead were respon-
sible for the suspicious smoke; and then
the flag - captain reported deliberately,
"There is another squadron north-west of

THE PALL OF THE MIGHTY. 127

them, steering a course nearer to us." Was
it a spasm in the engines, or was it a
shudder that seemed to strike every man
on the bridge, and almost simultaneously
communicate itself to figures in dirty duck
on the decks below ? What made so many
ashen faces turn towards the bridge ?

" Six — no, there are only five ! "

" Perhaps it is the British from Wei-hai-
wei— the silhouette of theb ships is very
similar," was laconically suggested by the
flag-lieutenant, with the faintest suspicion
of optimism in his voice.

** Japanese battleships ! " A monotonous
voice from the top killed this last hope.

Mikasa^ Shikishima, Fuj% Asahi, and
Nisshin in line ahead!" droned the flag-
captain as the Japanese squadron became
"hull up," showing the white "bones" in
front of each.

To fight was now imperative. In a
moment the bridge resounded with the
strident voice of the Admiral. The leth-

128 THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY,

argy vanished, the flag-lieutenant dropped
down the ladder, and the decks thrilled
with the bugle note. Even before the
signal flags had left the yeoman's hand, the
squadron had passed the bugle-call along.
To fight was now imperative — why, im-
perative ! it had already begun ; the rattle
of the Novik's quickfirers rolled across the
summer sea ; she was engaging the more
enterprising of Togo's scouts. Back the
little boats steamed to shelter under the
guns of the battle squadron.

The Russians would fight — the battle

flags were bent 1

• •••••••

The great ship quivered— then quivered
again. For a moment the flag-lieutenant
thought that a torpedo had struck her.
His nervous system remembered that first
torpedo under Golden Hill. It was only
the twelve-inch guns. , But they made the
conning -tower rock. The Japanese had
manoeuvred, and were now standing in on

THE PALL OF THE MIGHTY. 129

the starboard beam. The Eussian Admiral
changed his course. Great projectiles were
ricochetting overhead and raising geysers
of salt spray all round them. But for
the present the flag -ship could answer
shot for shot, and one of the hostile
battleships — the Shikishima it looked
like — had drawn out of the fighting
line.

The Admiral clenched the hand-raiL
His face was still pale, but the fighting-
light was in his eyes. For a moment his
gaze turned from the Mikasa^ with her
black hull flashing lurid yellow up and
down its lean length. The mist was up
again in the south-west, and the sea was
rapidly getting up.

"Make the fleet signal, 'Close up—
follow me.' " Then he turned to the officer
at the navigating tube, " For the promon-
tory."

At the same moment there was a deafen-
ing report, and the vessel swung so that

130 THE FALL OP THE MIGHTY.

every one in the conning-tower was thrown
against the walls.

" What was that— mined ? "

The dread of mine and torpedo by this
time was firmly ingrained in every Russian
sailor, * and as the flag-lieutenant sprang
down the ladder the horrible nightmare
of the Petropavlovsk leaped up before his
mental vision. It was nothing. A deck
officer, who seemed as unconcerned as if
he were at manoeuvres, came hurrying for-
ward. He reported that a large shell had
hit the after 12-inch turret, glanced, and
in bursting wrecked the top above.

" Awful ! Poor fellows' flesh came down
with the splinters on the deck like confetti
in a carnival ! " The cold-blooded simile
passed in the heat of the surroundings.
Then the vessel staggered from two ter-
rific blows forward. The flag - lieutenant
stumbled ahead, drawing his hands mech-
anically to his ears, while the torn frag-
ments of iron and splinter soughed past

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY. 131

him. Biting, stinging Bmoke blinded him,
while the force of the concussion flattened
him against a ventilator. The first sight
he saw was the mangled frame of his
comrade. The top of the poor wretch's
head was gone, a half- burned cigarette
was still between the clenched teeth. He
threw his glance upwards — the forward
smoke-stack was rent from top to bottom,
and the flame and smoke were licking round
its base. The 12-inch guns in the forward
battery solemnly fired, and the ear-splitting
crack of the discharge brought the youth to
his senses. He made for the ladder.
Great God! the conning - tower and for-
ward bridge were but torn, smoking, and
twisted wreck. A man jumped to the
deck. His face was as black as an Ethi-
opian's, his uniform and beard torn and
discoloured to a filthy yellow; his left
arm, severed at the biceps, was dangling
by a sinew.

" All are killed, the Admiral, all ! " the

132 THE FALL OP THE MIGHTY.

figure gasped, as it reeled and sank faint-
ing to the deck.

Then the port guns fired. The - flag-
lieutenant realised that the ship was not
steering — she was veering round. He
dashed to the after bridge, past the quick-
firer crews lying prostrate, amid the wreck-
age and the corpses. He found the
commander superintending the shipping of
the after steering-gear, and reported the
paralysing intelligence. For a moment
the commander looked at him blankly.
He was bleeding from a skin wound in
the neck, and such of his uniform not
stained yellow was scarlet with blood.

"Good!" he ejaculated; "she is steer-
ing again. Full steam ahead. Make a
fleet signal. Make the signal, *The
Admiral transfers the command.'"

Thank Providence for that south-
westerly gale. The flag- ship at sixteen
knots came into the bright bay that faces

THE FALL OF THE MIGHTY. 133

the Ostend of the Far East. For the
last time during the war the 12-pounder
crews were mustered. What a relief.
Mustered in peace to salute the German
flag.

134

CHAMPIONS.

YiNKOw, October.

The moment of deadlock had arrived. The
Russian counter-attack, desperate though
it had been, had failed to get home; but
the Japanese infantry, immovable itself,
was unable to turn the mass of Russians
from behind the fold in the ground which
they had reached. Barely three hundred
paces separated the muzzles of these op-
posing lines of blackened rifles. But that
narrow green strip was impassable to both.
To show upon it was to court almost certain
death. Already the turf was littered with
fallen men, and scarred and seared with
the violence of plunging shell. But the
artillery fire from both sides had now ceased,

OHAMPlOKd. 135

since from the gun positions it was im-
possible to discriminate between friend
and foe.

Lieutenant Tokugawa, of the — st Regi-
ment of Imperial Japanese Infantry, lay
amongst his men, with his eyes fixed upon
a slight mound midway between the firing
lines. The five stones which served him
as head-cover gave him a scant loop-hole.
The little mound attracted him. It was
little more than a fairy ring — perhaps it
was some Manchu's grave ; but it fascinated
Tokugawa, and he made a mental measure
of its distance. He was calculating if it
should be the limit of the next rush when
it was ordered. Tokugawa was a little
man. But though his stature was small
in the matter of cubits, his back was that
of an athlete. He had the reputation of
being the bravest and strongest man in
the regiment, where all were brave and
strong.

That mound — innocent little heap of

136 CHAMPIONS.

emerald green — was exercising its fascina-
tion upon another soldier. Two of the
most sanguinary rushes made before the
Russian counterstroke finally failed had
been led by a tall fair subaltern and a
long-haired priest Twice h^ theee two
placed themselves in front of a group of
desperate men and striven to win their
way to the Japanese bayonets, and twice
had rifle fire obliterated the attempt,
leaving but a handful to regain the
shelter of the dip.

The fair subaltern's eye had caught the
mound. It marked the possible place for
a pause, and, setting his teeth, he mar-
shalled his shattered sections for a last
despairing effort. The afternoon sun
caught the glint of the tapering bayonets
as the obedient moujiks rose to their feet.
A clatter of rifles brought into position
passed down the Japanese firing-line as the
watchfiil little eyes accepted the warning.
Up rose the youthful subaltern and priest.

CHAMPIONS. 137

with perhaps twenty men behind them.
One withering volley, and the attempt
had failed almost before it had begun.
The subaltern, the priest, and fbui- others
alone stood, and came racing for the
mound. Other rifles spoke. One by one
the men staggered and collapsed. Now
only the priest and officer remain. A few
more steps and the scant haven will be
reached. The priest, with his lank locks
waving in the air, his crucifix aloft, sinks
to earth as his legs become nerveless
beneath him. Yet, though he is fast
becoming spent, he holds the emblem
above him. But the youth ! Tokugawa
can now see his fair yet firm-set features,
can almost feel the flash from his blue eyes.
The mud-spirts of striking bullets seem to
entangle him ; yet on he still comes. His
life is surely charmed by that crucifix still
held aloft with faltering strength in that

taloned hand. A moment more and

he is down behind the cover ! The mound

138 CHAMPIONS.

top is scarred and rent with striking
nickel. The crucifix is shattered with
the hand that held it, as the priest
collapses to a dozen wounds. A sleet of
bullets sweeps the narrow margin, and
then all is still again.

A fierce light burns in Tokugawa's eyes.
He is unwinding the thong from his two-
handed sword, — the sword which his father
wielded in the Rebellion — which his for-
bears in the direct line had wielded in a
thousand fights for half as many years.
His resolution once taken, nothing could
shake it. The fascination of the mound
was now changed to magnetism. He is
on his feet — the true steel is bare in his
hands, and he is racing for the mound. A
shout goes up, a cheer in which both sides
join. The tall fair subaltern has jumped
to his feet. The best blade in Tsarskoe
Selo is bare in his hand — he has accepted
the challenge, and he stands with head
erect at the base of the mound awaiting

CHAMPIONS. 139

the onrush of his diminutive adversary.
As if by instinct the battle in the vicinity
accepts the trial by champion, and both
sides rest on their arms, even expose
themselves freely by rising to their knees.
The moment is supreme. The bright
sunlight: the green, with its groups of
fallen men, the lesser wounded raising
themselves painfully to watch the coming
issue : the war-bedraggled spectators shoot-
ing up as it were from the ground: the
two main figures with a bright star of light
on the ground behind them, as a sun-ray
catches the shattered crucifix. Ten paces
from the mound Tokugawa halts to catch
his breath, for he has raced a hundred
yards. The tall Russian lowers his guard,
and bows slightly. He will take no mean
advantage. The little Japanese is quick
to detect the courtesy implied, and, not to
be outdone, instinctively inclines his head.
Then, remembering he is a soldier, he
brings his bright blade to **the recover."

140 CHAMPIONS.

The Russian salutes likewise, and then
they close in mortal combat.

The Russian is the swordsman — Toku-
gawa the energetic and vigilant assailant.
The blades flash high and low for a
moment; the clash of the steel is audible
to both fighting lines, in spite of the din
of battle raging with unceasing vigour all
around them. Then a murmur goes up
from the onlookers, a blade has been flung
clear of the melee^ and falls — ^falls beside
the crucifix. A shout from the Japanese
— Banzai! hanzai! hanzaiJ It is the
Russian who is disarmed. Whether
snapped, or shorn by the superior steel,
his blade has gone ; he stands with nothing
but the hilt in his hand. Banzai !

The end has come, and the Russian
onlookers fiercely grip their pieces. The
subaltern springs back, and then hurling
the remnant of his faithless weapon at his
adversary's face, he closes upon him with
his naked hands. The missile misses, and

CHAMPIONS. 141

Tokugawa, with the agility of a squirrel^
leaps sideways — the two-handed sword of
his fathers is raised to strike — the end
has come, and the rifles quiver in the
onlookers' hands. But no — the blow never
falls : with a side - sweep, which was the
stoutest and noblest stroke that ever
swordsman struck, Tokugawa flings his
weapon from him — twenty yards away
it falls — and then man to man with
naked hands the champions close. Fair-
haired giant and swarthy pigmy. It is
all over in a few seconds. By some occult
leverage — some subtle science, in which
mind lariiltnphs over muscle — Tokugawa
flings his great opponent to the ground,
and kneels upon his chest. Again the
cheer rings out. The Russians even join
issue, for the magnanimity of the sword
has not escaped them.

Tokugawa jumps clear, and, extending
his hand, helps the Russian to his feet.
For a moment the two men stand with

142 CHAMPIONS.

hands clasped, looking into each other's
eyes. Though they cannot speak each
other's tongue, yet they read there that
which no known language can express.
The Russian stoops and picks something
from the ground. It is the shattered
crucifix : he places it in his late opponent's
hand. Tokugawa tugs at the little chain
at his breast. The link gives, and he
passes to the Russian officer his seal and
signet. Again the two men grasp hands,
and then they salute and turn. The cheer
rises afresh as they stride back to their
respective lines. No finger touches trigger
until both, after a farewell wave, are back
to cover again. A moment's pause. The
Japanese reinforcements have arrived. A
heavy fire, a shout, and the mass of Japan-
ese advance and drive the Russians from
the field.

143

XII.

THE OUTPOST.

If you turn up a North China sailing
directory you will find that the west coast
of Korea is recommended to mariners with
a note of warning. It is an iron-bound
seaboard, and the northern portion of it,
which hitherto has remained uncharted in
the Admiralty records, for three months in
winter is ice-bound. The coast from Yong-
ampo to Fusan is fringed with a succession
of rugged ' cliff-bound islets. Hundreds of
pinnacled rocks and masses of cliff, appar-
ently of no value to living creatures other
than sea-birds. In winter a bleak, dreary,
dangerous coast-line indeed. In summer,
when the Yellow Sea is tranquil, the islands
are of no import from their very barrenness

144 THE OUTPOST.

and inaccessibility. The reader will specu-
late what history, except of shipwreck, can
be fathered upon a region so desolate and
uninteresting. Of shipwreck, as it is
brought to mind by a rockbound coast, we
have no concern; but some of these inac-
cessible and unheard-of rocks for a brief
period in the early months of the war were
the means by which the great palpitating
world heard the legends of sea disasters
more ghastly than simple shipwrecks.

Two men sat crouching over a charcoal
fire in the worst apology for a hut that
imagination could conceive. Half cave, a
quarter tent, and the remainder sods and
board, it fiirnished the poorest shelter from
the semi- blizzard that was raging outside.
The men, in spite of the goatskin coats
in which they were clad, seemed half
perished with cold. They cowered over
the brass pot that held their fire, and
raked the embers together to increase the
miserable heat. And well they might

THE OUTPOST. 145

cower, for th^ whole ramshackle erection
swayed and rattled with the wind, while
the driven sleet, bitter and searching, made
its way through the many crevices in roof
and wall. Outside a very tumult raged, —
the wind howled and shrieked all round the
dwelling, the ceaseless thunder of breaking
waves showed that these two miserables
were living on the brink of some sea-
washed cliff, while the brief intervals and
lulls in the grinding storm were filled with
the plaintive moan of wind- vibrating wires
and stays. A glance round the hovel, and
a stranger would have been stupefied
The light was good and bright — well it
might be, for it was electric. Electricity
in such a dwelling! And look on the
shelves against the wall. Instruments —
instruments the most modern and delicate
that science could manufacture.

A bell rang, — electric too, — and presently
a wheel began to click, slowly but deliber-
ately. If you had closed your eyes you

146 THE OUTPOST,

could have imagined that you were in your
club listening to the mechanism that gives
you the latest quotation from the Bourse.
Slowly the instrument ticked. Both men
listened, nodding out the dots and dashes
as they read them. Then one of them
jumped to his feet.

'*That is it — that is our own — not the
honourable Bussian."

His companion rose and joined him, and
together they pored over the long strip of
paper as the symbols were ticked off on it
at the rate of ten to fifteen words a minute.
All the men could tell was that it was their
own cipher. Above that they had no
knowledge, beyond the fact that as soon
as they received the final group the mess-
age was to be transmitted farther. For
half an hour the machine ticked on monot-
onously, and then the message ended. One
of the men pulled an old oil-papered um-
brella out of the corner, opened the creak-
ing door, and dived into the blizzard

THE OUTPOST. 147

without. He was responsible for the oil-
engine. His comrade filled a long-stemmed
pipe with a bowl just about the size of a
girl's thimble. He picked up a glowing
coal with the primitive fire-tongs. In three
whiffs his smoke was done, and, turning to
the shelf again, he switched on the current
and touched the key. With a smack like
a bullet flattening against a wall the great
spark cracked out, filling the room with a
white-blue gla^e. And, long and short,
short and long, in the midst of its splutter-
ing noise the message went.

Over sixty miles across that stormy sea
had it come. It was now going seventy
miles through space to the receiving-station
at Togo's rendezvcyus. In two hours the
Admiralty in Tokio would know how two
destroyers had steamed into the roadstead
at Port Arthur and disabled another Rus-
sian battleship. And when this story was
given to the public, the two human instru-
ments who had made its amazing passage

148 THE OUTPOST.

possible, perched on the spur of the far-off
Korean rock in all ignorance of the news
themselves, would probably be sitting over
their charcoal fire, talking of their beautiful
Japan, and comparing it with the poverty
of their time-being surroundings.

149

XIIL

THE BLOCKADE -RUNNER

TiBNT-siN, Niyoember,

The autumn sun was just sinking in a
bank of haze through which it peered, a
murky globule of tarnished rose, when
the skipper of the George Washington
changed his course to make the Chefoo
headland. The fog which hung heavily
to the north-west had beaten the breeze.
There was not a ripple on the oily surface
of the Yellow Sea; and the countless
fingers radiating from the Chefoo light
heralded a real thick Pechili night. The
skipper of the George Washington^ a rough
ill-hewn Norwegian, came up from the
chart-house, and, thrusting his great hairy
hands deep into his coarse duck pockets,

150 THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.

stepped the bridge pace for pace with his
"hard case" mate, and talked gruffly of
the sweets of the Karl Frederick's bar in
Tsln-tau, their last port of call. Behind
them the Malay quartermaster at the
wheel blinked stolidly.

There is no worry about pilots in
Chefoos open roadstead; and once the
skipper had made the headland, he just
tucked the George Washington in behind
a Butterfield & Swire's packet, and fol-
lowed her stern light. His eye caught
the great cloud of black smoke which,
also beaten by the mist, trailed heavily
behind the coaster. Then he glanced
quickly up at his own smoke-stack. A
similar deadweight of burnt Japanese
coal hung in motionless cloud behind
them. The Norwegian stopped and said
curtly to the mate, "Tell the engineer I
want to see him."

In five minutes a little wizened figure
stood at the skipper's elbow. A grimy

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 151

finger touched the greasy pilot-cap which
was pulled well down over a pair of
ferret eyes.

"You wanted me, sir?"

"Yes, Higgin. Have you got that
* Welsh' trimmed?"

The little ferrety eyes gave a knowing
signal as the dilapidated max^hinist made
answer, "Bather: the Japanese on top
will just take us in." The gnarled mate,
returned from his errand, had walked
over to the rail, and as be stared at the
lights now beginning to twinkle on Ghefoo
Bluff, was making a mental calculation
as to how much two thousand Mexican
dollars a-month would work out per diem.
At last it struck him that the sun had
sunk low enough for their purpose, and
he sent a deck hand to take in the sun-
bleached ensign from astern.

They were now up amongst the war-
ships. The skipper took them astern of
the Hai'Sheny then inside the Austrians.

152 THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.

As they passed the Vicksburg and the
American tender, the Chinese bos'un and
winchmen clambered on to the forecastle,
where the mate joined them. They were
right under the Bluff now, with its count-
less lights dancing across the harbour-
swell. The whirr of a windlass told them
that the Butterfield & Swire boat had
let go her anchor. The skipper brought
the George Washington in between her
and a China Merchant, and dropped his
hook.

In ten minutes the Chinese Maritime
Customs' boat was alongside, and the little
white-haired "runner" satisfied that the
George Washington was carrying a cargo
of Moji coal to Tsin-wan-tau, and had put
into Chefoo to take water and the 100 tons
of Chinese cargo consigned to the treaty
port of Newchwang. Having settled his
business with the port authorities, the
skipper changed his duck suiting for a
presentable suit of serge. Handing the

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 153

ship over to the mate, he selected a sanpan
from the cluster of hopeful boatmen swarm-
ing round the ladder, and went shorewards
with his mind full of thoughts of a Beach
Hotel dinner.

The sanpan brought up at the sea-wall,
and the skipper, throwing a twenty-cent
piece into the bottom of the boat, climbed
up the steps. A throng of lazy Chinamen
was crowding the bund. It made way
for the burly European as he shaped his
course for the town. Just as he reached
the cable office an exceptionally dirty
coolie ran up to him and saluted with a
half-naval, half-civilian tug at his ancient
cloth-cap.

"Alright, master, Mr Bailey hew Beach
Hotel have got!"

The skipper shook his head, and answered,
"All right, Wong;" while the Chinaman
slunk away much as a ricksha-coolie would
on his solicitations being rebuffed. The
skipper walked directly to the hotel and

154 THB BLOCK ADB-BUNNER.

turned into the bar entrance. A couple
of coasting-masters were standing at the
counter, and they both greeted the Nor-
wegian, " Hullo, Jorgessen ; we heard that
they had sent you to Siberia to do a little
hard labour."

"How did you manage to get clear of
Vladivostock ? Have a Scotch ! "

The skipper joined his colleagues, help-
ing himself from the bottle they pushed
towards him before he made answer.

"I've been away some time. They
talked much about the old hooker; but
they let her go. There's pretty rough
times in the coast-trade now."

"What have you got now?"

*\ George Washington, an old tank char-
tered to carry coal for the Pechili Mining
Company."

" I know her," said one of the masters,
flicking the ash from his cigar ; " converted
Holt boat. Rather fast boat for the coal-
trade, not, Jorgessen?"

THE BL0CKADE-KX7NNKB. 155

The skipper shrugged his shoulders,
stood the men a further potion, and then
excused himself and withdrew into the
hotel. He sauntered into the entrance-
hall, ordered the hoy to keep him a place
at dinner, and then scanned the visitors'
list. Finding the number of the room he
required, he spent two dollars in playing
w?th an autom^ic gamblmg-machine Jo^
disappearing up the rZential passag.
Having ascertained the right room, he
knocked sharply at the door and entered.
A fair, aknost boyish, young Englishman
rose to meet him.

" Well, Jorgessen, how are your nerves ?
you have a fine night."

The dour Norwegian smiled sardonically
as he answered, "The promise of such a
night has prompted me to come earlier
than I intended: but I would have pre-
ferred a gale of wind ! "

"Why did you come in here at all?"
queried the youth.

156 THE BLOCKADE-BUNNER.

"Because we heard that they were
watching off Shantung for direct sailings
to ports in the Gulf of Pechili. This spell
of fair weather necessitates caution. As
it was, we were signalled by the Chiyoda
yesterday : if we had been bound for any
port but Chefoo, she would probably have
overhauled us, and we didn't want that.
Also, I would like to see the colour of the
money. Half down, I think ! "

The Englishman moved across the room
to the writing-table, unlocked a despatch-
box, and, lifting the lid, took out a bundle
of crisp notes. The wad was a couple of
inches thick.

" How much was it ? " the youth said as
he wetted his thumb.

" Fifteen thousand roubles ! "

" Fifteen thousand roubles it is ! " and
he counted out thirty of the notes.
"Wouldn't you like me to keep them for
you ? I wouldn't advise you to take them
with you."

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 167

'^I Wish to take them/' the skipper
answered almost sullenly. " I know what
to do with them/' and he thrust the packet
into his hip-pocket.

" When will you sail ? " and the English-
man returned the balance to the despatch-
box, turning the key.

''As soon as the Chinese rubbish is on
board : I suppose you sent the lighters
off?"

" Yes ; they are alongside now.*

*'And my papers?"

*'Will be on board by ten o'clock: it's
lucky we haven't to deal with the British
consul ! "

"Well, good-bye then," and the Nor-
wegian crushed the youth's slim hand in
his massive paw.

"Grood-bye, and may fortune be with
you! When shall we expect you back in
Chefoo?"

"That depends on the weather and the
— Japanese ! "

158 THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.

,The skipper slammed the door behind
him and shambled into the dining-room.
He sat down to his dinner with 15,000
roubles in his pocket as unconcernedly as
if he had just received his monthly pay
of fifteen pounds.

• •••••••

The two coasting masters, after their
shore revel, were returning to their re-
spective ships about midnight. As the
sanpan took them under the stem of
the Butterfield & Swire boat, which
was still taking cargo, one of them
remarked —

" Hello, old Jorgessen's tank has pulled
out. Old surly Jorg didn't look as if
he was in such a * continental' hurry.
Wonder what the glass says : the old boy
knows this condemned harbour, — 'spose he's
gone to another anchorage."

" He'll consider himself d — d lucky if he
casts his hook where he hopes to by sun up
to-moiiow, or my name's not Thompson,

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNEB. 169

He'll be steaming with doused lights the
night, or I'm a Dutchman ! "

" What ! a dash for Port Arthur ! It's
a fine thick night for it."

" Well, the Pechili Company don't usually
ferry coals in sixteen-knot hookers."

The sound of the Butterfield & Swire
winches drowned further conversation. . . .

The master of the coaster had been wrong
in his supposition about the lights. When
he gave it as his opinion that the George
Washington was steaming for Port Arthur
with " doused lights," she was steering for
the Howki light with all the outward ap-
pearance of an honest trader. But a look
round her decks would have shown that
something unusual was under weigh. After
taking in her cargo at Ohefoo the derricks
had been lowered and housed. Now the
winches had been again uncovered and the
derricks shipped, and were being swung out
over the side, as if in preparation to take in
cargo again.

160 THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.

The vessel, too, was slipping through the
water at such a pace as told that the engines
were under their fullest pressure. The night
was as dark as pitch, and the fog so thick
that it was with difficulty you saw the lines
of the forecastle from the bridge. The
skipper stood alone on the bridge with the
blinking Malay at the wheel, while the
mate busied himself with the preparations
of the lifting - gear. This finished, he
mustered his Chinese crew, and, opening
a locker just abaft the foremast, handed to
each an iron belaying-pin.

Finally, he rejoined his chief on the bridge,
and for an hour the two paced up and down
without exchanging a word. Suddenly a
voice from the forecastle reported the
Howki light. The skipper and mate went
down into the chart -room, and in five
minutes the course was set. The skipper
returned to the bridge and put the helm
over until the ship's head was due north,
while the mate whistled the boatswain ; and

THE BL0CKADB-RX7NNEB. 161

in five minutes mast-head, stem^ and side-
lights had been brought in and the lanterns
placedi still lighted, in the lamp -room.
The ship had become a thing of darkness,
ploughing into the midst of darkness. . . .

The George Washington was doing her
best. The glow at the top of the smoke-
stack was all that was visible ten yards
fi:om her, except the white phosphorescent
race which she churned up with her
propeller. The darkness seemed to form
up in front of her as some great opaque
wall. The mist had gathered rather than
dispersed. The mate came back from ex-
amining the patent log. It registered 16
knots, point 2. There was a current with
her, and the skipper, calculating that she
was setting to the east, still held on due
north. "That should bring her to her
destination in two hours, or pile her on
the rocks."

The skipper set his teeth and stamped his
sea-boots on the deck, for the fog was wet

162 THE BLOCK ADB-RUNNSR.

and cold. The crew were huddled into one
of the deck-houses. The only lights were
the carefully screened binnacle and the
suspicion of glare from the smoke-stack.
In another forty minutes he would have
nothing to fear but loose mines and the
rocks. The blockade was nearly run, and
they had not seen the vestige of a Jap.

What was that? Something seemed to
break into the monotonous grind of the
throbbing engines. The two officers moved
to the port side and leaned far over the rail
with eager ears. Nothing; the swish of
their own displacement drowned everything.
What relief! No ; there it is again. It is
unmistakable this time — the peculiar pant
of a torpedo-boat. The look-outs have got
it now, for they too are craning over the
rail. Yes; there is a dark body moving
parallel with them. The skipper seizes the
night-glasses. He need not have worried,
for the closed eye of the searchlight is
suddenly opened ; and though it falters in

THE BLOCK ADE-RTJNNEB. 163

its struggle with the fog, yet the blurred
beam can cleave the gloom sufficiently for
the information of both crews.

"Small torpedo-boat" is the Norwegian
skipper's verdict. " Get the lights shipped
again, Mr Poole, and look round and see
if more swine of her kind are on hand. If
there are, we must run for it and trust to

providence : if she is alone, well '* and

he glanced up at the outline of the derricks.

In the meantime the torpedo-boat was
groping with its searchlight to ascertain
the nature of the craft she had discovered.
In a sea so calm it took her no time to
decrease the distance until the search-
light could overpower the fog.

But by this time the George Washing-
ton had its port-side light again showing.
The boat was now close enough to speak.
The hail came in English through a
megaphone.

"Ship ahoy— What ship is that?"

The skipper put his hands together and

164 THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER.

shouted through them " George Washington^
Norwegian ; Shanghai to Tsin-wan-tau."

The Japanese evidently did not hear very
well ; at least they did not seem to under-
standi for the megaphone rasped out the
peremptory order, "Stop, or well sink
you ! "

The mate was now back on the bridge.
The skipper with his hand on the telegraph
turned to him inquiringly. Instinctively
the mate understood. " It's all right, old
man; they are solitary, and everything's
ready I " Over went the telegraph's handle.
The bell rang back from the engine-room,
and the throbbing in the ship's internals
ceased.

"Stop her!" shrieked the megaphone.

"She's stopped, you blankety fools!"
answered the skipper.

It takes a ship in good trim doing sixteen
knots some time to run to a standstill, so
the torpedo-boat improved the opportunity,
circling round her quarry and scrutinising

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 165

her under the beam of its search-light. But
the fog was so opaque that at the distance
she thought it safe to keep she could have
made out but little detail.

The English-speaking expert on the mega-
phone kept up a running supply of queries.
At last he shouted, "Why had you not all
your lights ? "

" You made that out, did you ! " mused
the captain, as he shouted back, "Electric
lighted ship — dynamo suddenly gave out —
had to light oil lights."

" Don't understand — stand by for a rope
-«„ co^„g alongside.-

" Port or starboard ? " asked the skipper.

" Port ! "

" Thank our lucky stars for this calm,"
soliloquised the skipper; then, aloud, "Every-
thing ready, Mr Poole ? "

" Ay, ay, sir ! "

The torpedo-boat turned round, shut off
the search-light, and, reducing her speed,
swung down on the George Washington. A

166 THB BLOCK ADE-RUNNEK.

few pants from the oscillating engines, the
chime of the bell, a slight bump, and the
torpedo-boat was alongside. The rope was
thrown up and made fast. The first man
of the boarding party was swinging himself
up by the gangway, when a deep voice from
the collier's bridge shouted " Let go ! "

Two blows with a hammer, and then
with a grinding crash a steel patent anchor
with a forty-foot drop tore its way through
the deck, fore compartment, and bottom of
the torpedo-boat. The resistance might
have been tissue paper, for the released
steel hawser followed after the anchor. The
mate with a single blow of his axe parted
the rope holding the torpedo-boat. The
skipper telegraphed the engine-room, " Full
steam ahead.'' The Chinese boatswain
brained the boarding-officer with his belay-
ing-pin. With a convulsive shudder, as if
she were a human being shaking off a
reptile, the George Washington drew clear
of the torpedo-boat. And just in time, for

THE BLOCKADE-RUNNER. 167

the rush of water spurting up within the
little craft had reached her boilers, and she
burst asunder with a report like a blasting
charge. Then the black curtain of fog and
night closed over all.

"Narrow squeak, Mr Poole," grunted
the skipper as the mate joined him on the
bridge.

" Dirty business ; but it worked famously,
sir. What's that ahead ? "

" Port Arthur search-lights : if we don't
hit a mine, we're through I"

168

XIV.

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD.

A SMART little Japanese officer, resplendent
in the amalgamation of yellow, green, and
scarlet which furnishes the uniform of the
Guards cavalry, rode up to the portico of
the unpretentious building which is the
headquarters of the great General Staff in
Tokyo. A foreign onlooker would have
remarked upon the seat of this little light
cavalryman. He sat his horse far better
than the majority of cavalry officers to be
seen in the capital ; also, there was a cut
about his tunic and a smartness in his
general appearance which were in contrast
to what is generally seen in the capital of
the Mikado's Empire. There was a reason
for this. Lieutenant Zamoto had just re-

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. 169

turned from the best finishing school in the
world for a cavalry officer. He had been
associated for the last two years with a
Bengal cavalry regiment, and consequently
had taken his final polish from the best
type of cavalry officer living.

Proud of his profession and imitative to a
degree, if he found aught in the possession
of others that was worthy of imitation,
Zamoto had fashioned himself on all that
was best in the atmosphere of three great
Continental nations, and he had returned
to his home a model of what every cavalry
officer of the Guard should be, no matter
his race, breeding, or origin.

The little infantry sentry in the portico
came hurriedly to " the present," with all the
clatter and precision required in a German
text -book. As Zamoto dismounted, an
orderly dropped down the steps and took
his horse from him. Just stopping to brush
the dust from his patent-leather boots,
Zamoto entered the portal of the Staff

170 THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD.

building, the faculty of which, though at
the moment in the midst of peace, was
working diligently at the machinery which
would have made immediate warfare pos-
sible. As Zamoto clattered in, the mess-
engers and orderlies stood up in their
places. He acknowledged the salutation,
as any well-bred Japanese would have done,
whether his regiment was Cavalry of the
Guard or not, and mounting the stairway
went up to the ofl&ce of the staff-officer who
had summoned him.

He opened the door without ceremony,
and was welcomed by his brother officer
with as much formal courtesy as if he
had been a total stranger. A glance
round the room declared at once the im-
measurable difference between the East
and West. The officer whom he was
visiting, if his style and title could be
accurately translated into English, would
possibly have been a D.A.Q.M.G. for
intelligence. His office was likewise his

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. I7l

lodging. He had a little cubicle of a room.
In one corner was a camp-bed, which bore
the evidence of having been slept in on the
preceding night. A miniatm*e toilet-stand
stood beside it. For the rest, the furniture
consisted of two chairs, a table, and an
iron-bound chest, the last apparently for
the safe-keeping of documents. The office-
table, however^i was a pattern of neatness.
All along its length lay docketed piles of
telegrams, and it was evident from the writ-
ing materials in front of this D.A.Q.M.G.
that his duties lay in the digesting of the
contents of each telegram that reached his
department. The weather was hot, and
consequently the staff-officer had discarded
most of his uniform. His red-banded shako
was thrown on the bed, his sword hung on
a nail from the wall, while his tunic had
slipped on to the floor behind him. Zam-
oto sat down on the one vacant chair, and
after the first pleasantry which etiquette
required, remarked—

172 THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD.

" Well, I received your telegram, and
here I am."

The staff, officer looked at him sleepily
between his little slits of eyelids : it would
have seemed that he took no interest in
the question or the visitor, but that sleepy
look was penetrating and searching. He
was trying to detect in Zamoto's features
any sign that might exist of recent de-
bauchery or ill - living likely to prove
prejudicial to future soldierly conduct.
Doubtless Zamoto knew that he was un-
dergoing this scrutiny. For a moment
the two men looked at each other impass-
ively, and then the meaningless smile flick-
ered over the staff-officer's features as he
passed to the cavalryman a paper packet
of cigarettes.

"Well," said the staff- officer, as he
lighted his cigarette from a little ball of
live charcoal in the ash-tray at his elbow,
" it is not I who wanted to see you. You
have been sent for by a higher authority

THB AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. 173

— he will see you now; come along
with me."

Thereupon the staff-officer picked up his
coat, shook it, and put it on, readjusted his
sword-belt, and led Zamoto through a side-
door into the neighbouring room.

An elderly officer, with his shako awry
and his tunic all unbuttoned, was sitting
cross-legged on a chair. He was leaning
over a map and sucking laboriously at a
fat cigar. His butcher boots had evid-
ently inconvenienced him, for they had
been cast off and were lying under the
table ; his socks were striped in black and
white, and that of the left foot had a big
hole in the heel. This was the picture
that met Zamoto as he stood stiffly to
attention, having brought his heels to-
gether with smartness and precision.

"Your Excellency, here is Lieutenant
Zamoto."

With this brief introduction the staff-
officer withdrew and closed the door be-

174 THB AFFAIR OF THE BRIDOE-OUARD.

bind him. The general inclined his head
in acknowledgment of the entrance of his
subordinates, and turning round in his
chair, took a slip of paper out of a basket
on the floor by his side. He gave one
brief glance at the subaltern before him,
and commenced to read from the paper.

"You will proceed immediately to Yin-
kow ; there you will report yourself to the
Japanese consul, who will put you into
communication with a certain person in
Newchwang ; with the instructions of that
person you will place yourself in communi-
cation with a certain section of the Hun-
hutzas. It will be your duty to use your
knowledge of that part of China to organ-
ise certain of these Hun-hutzas after the
Japanese system. Of that system you are
already aware. You will receive more
definite instructions from time to time
after you have arrived at Yinkow. You
will proceed in a civilian capacity in any
guise that you may see fit."

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. 175

Having finished reading the paper, the
little old man tossed it back in the basket,
adding —

" Do you understand clearly ? "

The subaltern nodded his assent. "Then/*
continued the general, " understanding your
duty, go and perform it well, looking for
strength and guidance to the far-reaching
power and goodness of our Emperor."

Knowing he was dismissed, Zamoto
bowed agfain, and rejoined the staff-officer
i. the .L room.

• •••••••

Five Chinamen were lying huddled close
together on the raised platform which
serves all Manchu households for a bed.
In spite of its paper windows and the state
of the season outside, the interior of the
room was not cold, at least not at the spot
where the five men were lying, since it is
the custom of these people in winter to
maintain a permanent fire in an outhouse,
the flue of which passes under the common

176 THB AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD.

bed. Although the only light in the room
waB from the faint glow of a smoking oil-
lamp perched on the end of a rod, yet it
was sufficient to show that the house be-
longed to one of the poorest and dirtiest of
Manchu husbandmen. Everything was
black and murky with lamp-smoke. Lumps
of flesh, which, if it had not been for the
intense cold, would long ago have been
putrefying, were hanging from the centre
joists. Tet it is in hovels like this that
one is glad to penetrate when one is caught
in a Manchurian windstorm.

The five men appeared to be asleep, for
there was no movement noticeable amongst
the skins which covered them other than
the even rise and fall of human respiration.
Presently there was a sound outside. A
heavy door moved, and half a dozen sleep-
ing dogs were disturbed into temporary
excitement. There were the sounds of a
man stamping his feet, and it seemed from
the swish of fuel that he was stoking the

THB AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. l77

fire in the outhouse. Doubtless some be-
lated wayfarer, who, almost fix)zen by the
bitter cold outside, was now warming him-
self before the grateful embers.

The door of the sleeping apartment
opened, and the figure of a sixth China-
man appeared. He, like his fellows, was
clad in skins, and icicles stood out from
the fur adjacent to his face. The dim
light from the spluttering oQ-lamp made
the frost upon his garments glisten and
sparkle, as if he were covered with stage
spangles.

The figure moved over to the five sleep-
ing men, and shook them, one by one, by
the foot. Their sleep was evidently that
of men who are used to catch such scanty
repose a^ opportunity will allow, for in
a moment all five were awake. A few
words from the recent comer and they were
tightening their belts and taking down
arms from the rafters above them.

They were a band of Hun-hutzas, mem-

178 THE AFFAIB OF THE BRIDGE-GUABD.

bers of the fraternity of licensed highway-
men who haunt the valley of the Liau-ho.
It was evident that they had some des-
perate work in hand, for the late -comer
imparted his information to each in turn,
and the men conversed in whispers. He
then went to a brass -bound chest which
stood against the household bed and
opened the lid. It was full to the brim
with barley. Taking off his for gauntlet,
the Hun-hutza plunged his arm into the
barley and drew out a metal cylinder.
He repeated this operation until he had
possessed himself of four similar cylinders :
these he secreted in the big inside pouch
of his for robe.

Thus equipped, the six men, leaving the
lamp burning, stole out of the room — out
through the pent-house, past the growling
dogs, into the court beyond, across the
courtyard to another building. The stamp-
ing of hoofs on the frozen floor indicated
that it was a stable.

THE AFFAIB OF THE BRIDGB-GUAIID. 179

Six ponies were led out one by one, and
then the great iron - bound and quaintly
carved door of the courtyard was gingerly
opened^ and the six men led their horses
through into the howling blizzard outside.
They girthed up, mounted their unwilling
steeds, and in single file rode northwards.
For an hour, perhaps, they travelled, con-
stantly beating their arms against their
sides to keep the circulation in their ex-
tremities.

At the end of an hour they arrived at a
little group of trees. Here they halted and
dismounted, two of the men remaining with
the ponies, while the other four started out
across the snow. The blizzards in Man-
churia do not drift much snow that lies :
it is the wind and the frost that kill on
this vast steppe. But by now the fiiry of
the storm had somewhat abated; and as
there was no moon, and the recent snow
had become slippery, their progress was
slow. It was certain that their mission

180 THE AFFAIR OF THE BRTDGE-GUAED.

was one of extreme danger, and necessi-
tated the utmost caution, for the men had
cast their firearms loose, and had them
ready to hand. It seemed, though it was
difl&cult to see, that they were armed with
modern rifles.

Suddenly they halted again, and threw
themselves flat on the snow. By the aid
of the stars and the white mantle that
covered the whole surface of the earth,
by straining the eyes it was just possible
to make out the outline of some obstacle
ahead. It was evidently the objective of
this desperate quartette. A well-known
sound strikes the ear. There is the pant
and fuss of a locomotive breasting an in-
cline. It approaches nearer and nearer,
and the four desperadoes lying flat on
their stomachs can see the shower of sparks
which the wood fuel emits from the funnel.
The rise hajs been mastered, and fifty yards
in front of the prostrate men the great
train passes, shaking into a better pace as

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. 181

the last of its long load of waggons arrives
above the crest. All is clear now. The
four night-birds are train-wreckers working
in the interests of the Japanese against the
Bussian communications.

The train passes, and the red light on
the aftermost truck is disappearing in the
far distance. Then the four men again
begin to worm themselves forward on their
stomachs. From time to time they hear
the guttural shouts of the Siberian railway
guards from an adjacent picket. The night
is dark, and they trust to arrive at the line
unseen.

After a tedious and wearying half-hour
they reach the edge of the cutting by the
permanent way. The man with the cylin-
ders has already thrust his hand inside
his pouch, and is preparing to draw out
the blasting charges. Suddenly there is
a shout from behind. Anxiously each of
the four turns his head in the direction
of the sound. But they are too late, the

182 THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGB-GUARD.

recent snow has dulled the sound of the
hoofs, and before they can spring up and
defend themselves they are at the mercy
of a patrol of half a dozen Cossack lancers.
To fight is impossible : three of the Hun-
hutzas throw themselves on their knees
and pray for mercy. The fourth, he with
the cylinders, makes an effort to cast his
rifle loose and defend himself; but the
Cossack souS'Offider sees the movement,
and, driving the butt of his lance hard into
the wretch's stomach, hurls him breathless
to the ground.

It is a beautiful morning as these severe
winter mornings go, and the two Eussian
officers in charge of the bridge-guard turn
out of their snug little bivouac under the
embankment to hear the report that the
night patrols have captured four train-
wreckers red-handed.

"Bring them up," says the tall, fair,
for-covered senior, who is an officer from

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE- GtJ-tVRD. 183

the European army, and has been posted
to this section of the railway on account
of the energy he has displayed in prevent-
ing damage to the line by the marauding
Hun-hutzas. The four wretched culprits
are brought before him. Miserables, their
captors had extended to them nothing of
the hospitality of mean warmth which they
themselves were able to find in the bivouac
of the bridge-guard. Miserable indeed, but
stoical withal.

The Russian officer, as he lit a cigarette,
walked over to the prisoners and peered
into the face of the shortest of the four.
He took off the fur cap, and laying hold
of the queue beneath, gave it a wrench.
It came away in his hand.

" Ha, ha ! I thought so ; it was too dar-
ing for those wretched Manchus to have
undertaken by themselves." And the tall
Russian laughed loudly. The laugh died
on his lips as he looked at the Japanese
face before him ; he changed from his own

184 THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD.

tongue to French, looking the while like a
man who has seen a ghost.

" My God ! " he said, " it must be the
same : to think that you should have come
to this ! "

The masquerading Japanese answered in
halting French : " Yes, captain ; when we
were comrades together in Eure-et-Loire,
we never dreamed that it would come to
this ! "

The Russian steadied himself, and, with-
out saying a word, took out his cigarette-
case and handed the Japanese a cigarette.
Then he called his servant and ordered
some spirits.

" Perhaps you would prefer tea ? " he
said to his sorry guest ; " it is quite ready,
only I must apologise that it is Russian
tea."

The little Japanese admitted that he
would prefer the tea. As he drank it the
Russian captain grimly gave some orders

THE AFFAIR OF THE BRIDGE-GUARD. 185

to the escort, and, pulling out his watch,
he reverted to French —

" Lieutenant Zamoto, in five minutes you
will be shot. It is the only concession I
can make to you. Your three companions
will be hanged immediately fix)m the bridge-
girders. God be with you 1 "

186

XV.

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANTS STOEY.

This is the sub-lieutenant's story.

He was sitting in one of the best bed-
rooms in the Beach Hotel. He had pulled
his chair as close to the stove as possible,
and it seemed that every pore of his em-
aciated frame was striving to absorb the
gracious warmth, of which he had been
deprived so long. His face was pale and
drawn, and his eyes so sunken that the
sockets seemed like two round saucers.
But the anxious look was gone. Although
his features showed the ravages of a ten
months' campaign, yet for the moment they
were at rest, and the whole attitude of the
man indicated contentment and tranquillity.
But his nervous system was still unstrung.

THE NAVAL SUB- LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 187

At the slightest noise in the courtyard of
the hotel he would start, and his features
display that peculiar expression of watch-
Ail anxiety which comes to all men sooner
or later if they be seriously engaged in the
uncertain pastime of war.

It seemed impossible that this frail shadow
of a man, this unkempt ghost, could be the
same happy-go-lucky boon companion that
we had known twelve months ago in Genoa.
The man who then talked of war as he
would have talked of a wolf- hunt or a
sleighing venture into the pine - forests.
The man who, though scarcely out of his
teens, could rival a full-grown dock-labourer
in his capacity for drink. The man who
fascinated us all, and yet in his successes
and excesses left us but amateurs. But
this is not our story.

My friend, you wish me to tell you all
about it. Why, it is the history of two
generations and more : since we parted on

188 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

the deck of that Rubbatino steamer I have
lived a hundred years. You, and those who
have not been with us, can never know
what we have been through. It is not
that we have been beaten, — that is hard
enough for any brave man to bear ; but
we have been beaten by those whom we
despise. And being beaten at such hands
makes the punishment a slow torment. I
tell you I have lived a hundred years. But
it is pleasant to be out of it : two weeks of
this, and I shall be fit enough to go back.
It makes me shudder to think of the state
of the poor devils who are left behind.
If they could only have a fortnight of thia
[And he held one hand towards the grateful
heat from the stove, while he gazed fondly
at the white ash of the cigarette between
his fingers.] They would be new men, and
would make a very different history. But
I will tell it you all from the beginning.
After we parted in Italy, I went back
to the Naval depot at Sevastopol, and I

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 189

wa43 there until the end of the year. We
had rumours of war, — ^a delicate attention
of your English press. We laughed at
them then — that is to say, we sailors
laughed. War with Japan! Why, the
thing was too absurd even to contemplate.
With our powerful Pacific squadron, being
reinforced as it was by a battleship and
cruiser, it was impossible to believe that
these little yellow devils would ever dare
to think seriously of war. At least, that
is what we were told. We had men
amongst us who had served in the Pacific ;
they plied us with stories of Nagasaki and
Yokohama — stories over which we laughed
and jested, stories that smacked of de-
bauchery and vice.

But although we juniors of the cafds
scoffed at the idea of war, there were some
amongst the seniors who shook their heads,
and little by little we had evidences that
the Naval department itself had become
anxious. I received my orders on Christmas

190 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

Day. I was appointed to the Retvisan,
and had instructions to proceed to Port
Arthur at once. My brother officers gave
me a send-off — a send-off again redolent
of the delights of Nagasaki and Japanese
tea-housea They prophesied that I should
take my fill of riotous living early in the
spring, and it is curious how very nearly
those prophecies were fulfilled. At least
six times I narrowly missed going to Japan,
but not to fill the same picture that my
comrades had conjured up in their own
minds.

I shall never forget that journey to Port
Arthur. I was the only sailor amongst a
group of military officers hastening to the
front. What a time we had ! what dreams
we dreamed I what nightmares the realisa-
tion of those dreams have proved ! It was
evident that the stories that had reached
us in Sevastopol were not the myths we
then believed them to be. War — the cer-
tainty of war — was stamped on every train

THE NAVAL SUB-LTEUTENANT'S STORY. 191

steaming eaistwards. Every station was a
headquarters, every siding a rest-camp. All
were gay, all were confident, and yet be-
neath this air of gaietv and confidence
there seemed to J a Lnzied desire t.
heap more preparation into the twenty-four
hours than the twenty- four hours could
support. In spite of all the enthusiasm
which is inseparable from the preliminaries
of war, there seemed to be an undercurrent
of unrest and uncertainty. The nearer one
approached to the front the more this feel-
ing of depression asserted itself. Even in
Mukden, which was fast becoming a vast
military emporium, and where all that is
bright and smiling and flourishing in the
Far East seemed to have congregated, it was
impossible not to read anxiety in the faces
of the very men who were clinking their
glasses amidst ribald jest and patriotic song
in the beerhouses of which the town is full.
War was then imminent, at least that was
the whispered gossip in the cafds. Some said

192 THB NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY.

that Japan had broken off negotiationSi
others that a settlement had been arrived
at, and a third party gave information
which filled me with dismay. It was said
that the Bussian fleet had sailed with the
object of defeating Japan. To me this was
a bitter blow ; for if the Bussian fleet had
really sailed and had been able to base
itself in some Japanese port, it might be
long before I could join my ship. I
thought of my comrades in Sevastopol;
what a terrible misfortune for me it would
be if we should establish ourselves in Japan
and I had not been present to witness the
first-fruits of our overpowering success
against those presumptuous little yellow
devils. But at Hai-cheng our train was
delayed, and the one which followed us
brought a naval officer of my acquaintance,
who was coming down to Port Arthur with
despatches from Vladivostock. He set my
mind at rest about the sailing of the fleet.
It was due to sail for Japan but I had

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANt's STORY. 193

still three days in which to join. (Poor
Michael ! he is dead and gone, like so many
of the best. A Japanese 12-pounder shell
finished him when his torpedo-boat sank
one of their blockading steamers during a
night raid.) But my temporary joy at this
discovery was to be changed to sorrow at
Kinchau. It was pretty cold, and as
Michael and I jumped out on to the plat-
form to have a turn to get exercise while
the train waited, we were met by some
officers of the Siberian Rifles. These men
looked as if they were just returning from
the funeral of some near relative. I shall
always renxember the shock I felt when
they told their petrifying news. The Jap-
anese had attacked before a declaration
of war, aiid had torpedoed the two flag-
shFps of our squadron. Rumour had then
exaggerated the story sixfold. Here I
found myself about to join a vessel which
they said was a sunken wreck in the
entrance to our great harbour in the East.

194 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANTS STORY.

I had travelled these thousands of miles,
with no thought in my heart but the pro-
mise of success, to find that my duties
would find me directing a salvage crew.
It was too astounding to be believed, and
we journeyed the last few miles to Port
Arthur firm in the belief that this canard
had been circulated either through some
Chinese source by our enemies, or to
further some stratagem of our own. But
in part it was true. I joined my ship on
the following day, not as a sunken wreck,
but as a more or less useless hulk placed
upon the mud.

It would be impossible to describe the
feelings of the sailors in Port Arthur at the
moment of my amval. The whole force
might well be likened to a man who had
received a terrific blow that had taken the
whole breath out of him. The juniors were
accusing the seniors of incompetency, and
the seniors were countering the accusation
by bringing charges of neglect of duty and

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 195

debauchery against the juniors. The men
were all shaken, and there was no strong
hand at the moment in sufficient authority
to restore the morale which had been lost.
I will pass over the history of the next
month, when I was engaged with my ship-
mates in the repairing of our battleship.
Although it was not uncomfortable, I think
it was the most despairing period of the
whole war. We juniors knew that we
should be up and doing. We, at least,
could feel the indignity of remaining mag-
netised as it were by this false lodestone of
a fortress. We realised the disgrace of
allowing an enemy, whom we had always
despised, to treat us in the manner in which
a parcel of schoolboys would treat a wasp's
nest. Then came word of Makaroff. What
hopes we built on Makaroff ! But the cup
of our humiliation was to be filled to the
brim. If Makaroff had only been spared,
if our Navy in the Far East could only
have produced another man such as he, I

196 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

shouldn't be here, a fiigitive, with only a
story of disgrace and disaster to tell.
Makaroff was a man ; and when in a Rus-
sian you find a man, you find the best
that nature fashions. With the advent of
Makaroff I ceased my tedious labour of
superintending the hammering of rivets.
Makaroff was determined that the de-
stroyer flotilla, which was at the time
practically undamaged, should be used to
counterbalance the disasters which had
overtaken us. For this purpose quite a
number of junior officers were selected.
The choice falling on those who had the
best record, I found myself appointed as
second in command of the Plotva. My
commander was Ivan Kertch. A braver,
truer, and finer sailor never clung on to the
rail of a destroyer in a heavy sea than poor
old Kertch. He is gone, like Michael and
the rest of them. I wouldn't be surprised
if I was an admiral, if I am spared, at the
end of this war.

THE NAVAL SUB-LIE UTENANT's STORY. 197

The restless energy which Makaroff dis-
played inspired the whole fleet with new
hope and activity, more especially so in
the destroyer flotilla. We on the Plotva
were determined that if we could once get
on even terms with the yellow boats, we
would render a good account of ourselves.
When I joined her she was tied up along-
side a collier. Kertch was in the cabin of
the collier drinking whisky with the captain,
who was a countryman of yours. Kertch
had only just returned from patrol duty
ofi* Talien Bay. He was telling the captain
how he had been chased by four Japs, and
how he could steam two knots to their one.
He received me with delight, and we
stayed with your countryman for quite an
hour. I do not forget that hour; it was
the last really peaceful time I have had
until I came here, and it is a matter of six
months now since I first joined the Plotva.
We cast off from the collier, and were run-
ning into the basin when the Petropavlovsk

198 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STOBY.

made our number, and we had orders to
go back on patrol duty to Talien Bay.

This at last was business, and my heart
was full of joy and hope when we ran out
under the stem of the Askold. She was
doing guard-ship outside that night. It
was a smooth sea ; although there was still
a bite in the air, the weather had improved
wonderfully. Outside the guard-ship we
picked up the three other boats which
formed our division, and steamed away
down the coast for Dalny. The crew were
busy cleaning up and poUsbing the tubes.
Kertch and I were on the bridge; as we
slipped through the water we talked of
home, of the Naval College, and of all our
mutual friends far away at Sevastopol. I
remember 1 took my talisman out of my
breast-pocket to polish it up a bit. Great
heavens! I have no use for a talisman
now. We made South Sanshan-tau just
after dark, and then the commander of the
division made a signal with the stern-lamp

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT^S STORY. 199

that we were to run in under the signal-
station and lie to till morning.

It was on the morrow that the real
thing opened for me : hitherto I had been
confined to the Retvisan, and although I
had heard the* Japanese big shells hurtling
overhead, and had seen the torpedo-boats
fighting against the Japanese in the en-
trance to the harbour, still I knew nothing
of war. Before sunrise we were joined by
two more destroyers from Dalny. We had
orders to patrol thirty miles south, and to
return to Port Arthur by sundown. After
midnight the wind had sprung up a little,
and day broke to a dull leaden sky and
choppy sea. The land was just disappear-
ing under our stem when the commander
signalled from the left — we were line
abreast — that he could make out smoke
to the south-west, and that we were to go
ahead and reconnoitre. This meant busi-
ness. I had never heard a more cheering
sound than that telegi^aph, ''Full steam

202 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

thus divide him in two, so that the fire
of three of our boats might be concentrated
on two of his. We stood on at half-speed
until only 2000 metres separated us. The
Japanese had opened out a little. It was
a fine spectacle, our six boats in line, a
cable's distance apart, bearing down on the
four lean Japs, who, to prevent us from over-
lapping, had opened out to about a cable
and a hal£ Like ourselves, our enemy had
reduced his speed. We were all now
standing to quarters. Kertch was on the
bridge, I was down with the 6-pounder
forward. The men were joking and con-
gratulating each other on the opportunity
we should now have of paying off old
scores. Brieleff made a special number.
It was the Stereguch% the boat next him
in the line. The flags read, "Conform to
my movements." Before the signal to the
rest of his flotilla was made, the Japanese
opened fire with their 12-pounders. They
carried 12-pounders, we only 6-pounders.

THE NAVAL SUB-LI BTJTENANT's STORY. 203

Then came the flotilla signal, "Echelon
from the centre, full steam ahead, engage."
Merrily chimed the telegraph - bells, and,
when our turn came, we felt the Plotva^
like a racehorse to the spur, bound forward
underneath us. All the rest is a tangle
of disjointed memories. We were on the
extreme left of the line abreast. I can
only tell you the confused threads as I
recollect them. I remember glancing to
starboard, and noticing the five parallel
wakes of our flotilla, which seethed up
above the breeze ripple. Then the smack
of the 6 -pounder and the whirr of the
maxims brought me to my duties. ** That's
a hit," shouted the No. 1 of my crew, and
at the same moment a shell exploded on
our rail. A splinter hit the hopper of the
gun, glanced, and then the ear, moustache,
and cheek of the No. 1 were gone. He
stood a moment, drenching the lever in
his hand with blood, then sank to the
deck, while another seized the slimy handle

204 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STOEY.

and shoulder grip. I noticed that the men
at our boat - rail were firing with rifles.
The new No. 1 swung the gun round, and
I could see that we had changed our course,
and now had a Japanese destroyer abeam
on the port side. My eye caught the
blood -red radiations on its smoke -fouled
bunting. Its funnels were belching flame,
while it was so close that the incessant
flash from its quick-firers hurt the eye.
Projectiles swished above us ; but at the
moment I did not realise that we were
the target.. My gun had stopped firing.
"Ammunition!" I shouted, and then real-
ised for the first time that I alone of all
my gun -crew was standing. My fellows
were a heap of hideously mutilated flesh.
As I sprang to the gun, I recognised
amidst the streaks of crimson remainder
a handless forearm. On it was the cher-
ished tattooed geisha of my servant Alexis.
Men from the tube came to aid me, and
then the vessel heeled as if she had col-

THE NAVAL SUB-LI EUTBNANT's STORY. 205

lided. The wreck of the maxim from the
bridge was swept along the deck, and
imbedded itself steaming and hissing in
the pile of human offal at my feet. Again
the vessel heeled, and I felt myself seized
by the hand.

" Excellency, Excellency, the commander
is killed. Come quickly to the bridge.
We are alone — the other boats have fled.'*

How I got to the bridge I cannot say :
I remember that the hand-rail was twisted
like a corkscrew. What a scene! Save
for the wheel, steersman, and binnacle, the
bridge was swept dean. Maxim mounting,
commander, rail, were a tangled mass trail-
ing alongside. As I clung to a funnel-stay,
I was actually looking down the smoking
throat of a Japanese 12-pounder not six
fathoms distant. Black, hissing, and bat-
tered, the boat was closing on us like some
hideous sea - monster. A dozen of her
ruffian crew with short swords in their
hands were gathered forward to spring

206 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY.

upon us. There was not time to give an
order. The men were now jumping. But
my steersman had put over his helm.
There was a grinding jar, and we slithered
past them, carrying away their rails and
forward hamper, and grinding to pulp,
against our plates, such of their boarders
as had jumped short. As we shook clear
our 6 -pounder belched into her vitals,
and a great geyser of steam shrieked out
amidships from between her smoke-stacks.
I remember seeing my men pitchfork the
four little devils who had boarded us
over the side with their bayonets, and
then I pitched headlong on to the debris
of gun -crew and maxim on the deck
below. A rifle bullet had just missed
my spine and perforated my right lung.
The engineer brought the Plotva out.
How we escaped I don't know, for the
yellow devils seemed all round us. But
our speed saved us, though they got the
poor old Stereguchi.

THE NAVAL SXJB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 207

What happened ? You may well ask !
Why, the two boats which belonged to
"C" Division — not to ours — never carried
out Brieleflfs orders. So we came in as
a single echelon on a short front. Their
left boat got Brieleff and the whole lot
of us broadside on, and broke us up. This,
in conjunction with their superiority in gun
calibre, beat us. We've got 12-pounders
now, when it is too late.

What happened to me afler that? I
was six weeks in hospital. That was a
fearful period, because we lost our fleet
then. That is, we lost Makaroff in the
Petropavlovsk ; and when Makaroff went,
we felt that we couldn't hope to do much
until we were reinforced from Europe.

I was just convalescent in hospital
when the Makaroff disaster overtook us.
Although we have since often been de-
pressed in Port Arthur, I don't think that
we ever passed through a worse twenty-
four hours than that which followed the

208 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

loss of the Petropavlovsk. In the last
week of April I came out of hospital, and
was almost immediately given the command
of a destroyer. The boat I got was the
ill-fated Reshitelni. We had a good run
together while she was in my command.
We see by the papers that have reached
us in Port Arthur that nothing was done
by the Russian flotilla. This is a mis-
statement. We worked devilish hard.
Some day, when this war is over, several
losses and damages which the Japanese
have said nothing about will be placed
to our credit. In May Togo was at his
old blockading games again; but his last
effort in this direction was a dismal failure.
I was out that night with three other
boats, and we sank every one of the
blockading boats in deep water. Our
success has been sufficiently proved, since
the yellow devils never attempted similar
waste of merchant tonnage again. I should
like to dwell on this, because we in Port

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT's STORY. 209

Arthur — at least, we who have proved
ourselves good sailors — resent all that
has been said about our incapability. I
promise you, my friend, that we juniors
were not at fault ; and if only some of us
could have had a higher command in the
beginning, we should never have seen the
wreckage of our beautiful fleet. But it is
no good crying over spilt milk ; some of us,
I doubt not, will be on the future Russian
ships when they are universally successful.

But to continue my story. During the
first week in May I was selected by the
Admiral to take the JReshitelni on a night
reconnaissance to the Elliot Group, where
Togo had now based himself. We were
not quite certain what part of the group he
was using as his base, and if the scheme
were found practicable, it was the intention
of the Admiral to launch an attack against
him with the three divisions of destroyers
that were still sea -going. I was piloted
out of the harbour by the mine-tug in the

210 THE NAVAL SUB-LIBUTBNANT'S STORY.

afternoon, and I lay up under Golden Hill
until about eight o'clock. The sea had got
up a little ; but in consultation with my
engineer I came to the conclusion that it
was not too rough for our enterprise. We
had thirty miles to cover to Talienwan, and
forty miles on from there, in all about a
four hours' trip if we went direct; but I
had to make a considerable sweep, so it was
not until past midnight that I arrived off
the southern entrance to the group. Here
I found at least ten merchantmen anchored ;
I could not go close enough to make out
their escort, but we from our low position
could count their masts and funnels against
the lighter sky. If I had not been alone
and under special instructions to discover
the anchorage of the warships, I should
have attacked these transports as they lay.
But as I could discover the tops of only one
man-of-war, I determined to search round
the island in the hope of finding out Togo's
ireal anchorage. Then, having accomplished

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 211

that, to return to have a smack at these
boats. Half an hour's cautious steaming
brought me round to the northern entrance.
We saw nothing, so we lay to under the
rocks while three Chinese spies and one able
seaman went ashore in the boat. While we
were lying to waiting for them to return,
we made out what seemed to be a flotilla of
torpedo craft leaving the entrance : they
were showing stern lights, and we counted
five of these. From this we calculated that
it was a flotilla being piloted out by a
picket-boat, since we distinctly heard one
of the boats returning. I had allowed the
landing-party one hour, telling them that if
they were not back within that time they
would run the risk of being left behind.
They actually returned in an hour and a
quarter, and joined us just as the picket-
boat was passing back. It was a ticklish
moment, and I feared for a second that the
picket-boat would catch the sound of their
wash. But it was not so. They brought

212 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

magnificent information. According to their
account, we were lying as a crow flies within
two thousand metres of Togo's battle squad-
ron. My A.B. had been able to count the
larger vessels, and the Chinamen, recon-
noitring separately, had discovered the boom
and the position of the shore coal-supply.

Having taken such bearings as were
possible in the darkness, we started off
again with the intention of paying our
transport friends a visit. I should point
out that this transport fleet, although
lying at one of the anchorages at the
entrance to the main bay in the group,
was sufficiently screened from the Port
Arthur direction by two of the largest
islands. Owing to the big sweep that I
had made, I had come in from the north-
east, whereas the Japanese would have
anticipated an attack from our direction
to come from the south-west. I therefore
determined to dash clean through the
anchorage, torpedoing such boats as I could.

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 213

My course would then be from west to east.
By returning on a parallel line, I might
still be able to do further damage, and slip
out the same way that I had come.

I felt certain that I had eluded the
patrolling flotilla by coming from the north-
west, and I therefore determined to break
out the same way. We crept up to our
original vantage-point unperceived. Then
followed a glorious five minutes: we went
through them full steam ahead, steering
directly for the vessel whose fighting-tops
we could make out above the skylight.
We discharged two torpedoes, one against
a big merchantman that looked like a con-
verted cruiser, the other against the vessel
with the tops : it was either a coast-defence
ship or a gunboat. We know the latter
torpedo took effect, because we saw the
phosphorescent wave caused by the ex-
plosion and heard the report. We were
through them and gone before they quite
realised what had happened. But we

214 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

heard bo'suns' pipes, shouts, and yells. I
put the boat about, with the intention of
making another attack as soon as the tubes
were recharged. Just as we came about, a
quick-firer opened on us from some fifteen
fathoms' distance. We had evidently run
into the patrol-boats. I gave the order
that nothing was to be fired, and went full
steam ahead for the entrance, feeling that
this would stop the firing. It was neck
or nothing now, and any moment we might
have been on the rocks. We were, how-
ever, pretty used to the darkness by this,
although we had not now the sky-line to
guide us. It was a choice between the
rocks or fouling one of the merchantmen.
We were abreast of one of them before
we realised her position; it was evidently
a transport, and they made out the glare
from our funnels. They opened a musketry
fire. It was wild and uncertain, and not
very effective. The bullets mostly went
high, but a certain number came pretty
near us, and I, as usual, was unfortunate.

THE NAVAL SUB LIBUTENANt's STORY. 215

Hardly out of bed a fortnight, I got an-
other shot through the chest. But I was
able to keep the bridge until we reached
our original point of entry. Then, with
my tunic stiff with blood, I handed
over command to my sub-lieutenant, and
he brought us back to Port Arthur
safely by daybreak. We discharged one
torpedo in our break-away, but whether it
took effect it is impossible to say; how-
ever, we are certain that we torpedoed
a coast - defence ship or a gunboat that
night, and if you look up the records
about that date, you will probably find
that a Japanese ship was lost, and
possibly a transport as well. Doubtless
mines will be given as the cause of the
disaster.

By the time that I was landed 1 was a
very fair wreck. It is pretty hard luck for
a man to get hit badly again after he has
only just recovered from a perforated lung.
I was in hospital two months with this
wound, and a real bad time I had. It is

216 THE NAVAL SUB-LIE UTENANT's STORY.

for this reason that I lost all the glorious
experience which the flotilla had when the
mines laid by the Amur sank the two
Japanese battleships and the cruiser. I
was so bad during the first month of this
my second turn in hospital, that I didn't
know much about anything that was taking
place. I was not well enough to sit up and
receive visits from my friends until after
the fleet returned from its attempt to leave
Port Arthur in June.

You ask me what the state of affairs in
Port Arthur was at that time ? I think I
can express it in three words, "Kesigned
and determined." We had now realised
that we could not hope to extricate our-
selves without help from Europe. Until
the battle of Tehlitz, we had hoped that
our investment would be only temporary !
But when Stackelberg was driven back to
the north, we realised that we had to suffer
not only investment but a heavy siege.

The garrison was generally cheerful.

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 217

There was plenty of food and ammunition,
and there will be plenty of food and
ammunition to the end. They talked of
the advent of the Baltic Fleet, but we
sailors knew that it would be impossible
for that fleet to reach us this year ; and we
doubted that, even in the most favourable
of circumstances, it would be able to arrive
in Chinese waters until next spring. We
were also very anxious about our own
Pacific Squadron. All the damaged ships
had been repaired, but there was every fear
that the passage of the channel and the
dearth of coal would prohibit us taking the
offensive. The passage we were able to
negotiate, but not readily, therefore there
was no hope of taking the fleet out under
covei* of a fog or bad weather. As to the
state inside Port Arthur when I left, you
can hardly expect me to tell you much
beyond that there is no want of food,
ammunition, or spirit to maintain the de-
fenders of the fortress to the bitter end.

218 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT's STORY.

Yes, things in the hospital were bad ;
you could hardly expect them to be other-
wise. You must bear in mind that we
started the investment with all the Nan-
shan wounded. There were sufficient of
these almost to fill all the available hospital
space. You should remember that there
were very few rifle wounds from this battle ;
nearly every wounded man in hospital was
suffering from the effect of shell-fire, and
the majority of shell wounds keep men in
hospital far longer than rifle wounds. Then
from time to time we had the wounded from
the fleet, and towards the end of June the
siege operations filled the hospitals till they
overflowed.

No, I don't think you can expect me to
answer that question. I don't mind telling
you my own adventures; but I am not
going to enter into a political argument,
nor am I going to discuss the present or
the future.

To return to my own story : I was

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 219

passed fit for duty on July 14, and on
the following day I rejoined my old com-
mand the Reshitelni. As in the case of
my first command. I feU in with an a^-
venture the very first night I took a boat
out. You probably know we were then
using half the remaining vessels of our
torpedo flotilla in piloting boats that were
bringing us food and warlike stores into
the port. Our agents used to bring their
cargoes to a certain place where we were
able to collect it and take it to Port
Arthur. I need not give you more de-
tails; but as the Japanese have now put
an end to this traffic from this particular
locality, there is no harm in talking about
it. You remember we were much troubled
during the early months of the war by
various American and English newspaper-
boats, which, claiming the rights of neutrals,
were used in the interests of Japan. The
most noxious of these was one equipped
with wireless telegraphy. We never wghted

220 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY.

B. .cep. in do. p..i»it. wi». _ '

portion of the Japanese fleet. The admiral i

therefore issued instructions that if any of
us met her we were to sink her and bring
the officers and crew in as prisoners to be
dealt with by a court-martial. Well, when
I was steering my course for the certain
place, there suddenly loomed up out of the
darkness in front of us a small steamer
showing lights. At first we naturally
thought it was one of the blockaders
masquerading as a legitimate trader. But
there was something about her seen in the
misty darkness which called to mind the
press -boat, and then we made out, or at
least at the moment we thought we made
out, her wireless apparatus hanging from
her mainmast.

Having satisfied ourselves that this was
the case, we obeyed orders. It was not
until we picked up the captain, passengers,
and crew that we realised we had been
in error. The vessel proved to be the

THE NAVAL SUB- LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 221

Hipsang. We should not have torpedoed
her if she had immediately answered our
summons to stop ; but as we made her out
to be a press-boat, and as she did not slow
down at once, we naturally could not give
her the benefit of the doubt, and so we
sank her. Such mistakes and accidents
must occur in war.

I was relieved of my command on ac-
count of this trouble, and for about three
weeks became a soldier — that is to say, I
took over one of the forts that was manned
by the reserve sailors from the fleet. I
cannot say that this was an uninteresting
experience, although of course it had at
that time none of the excitement attaching
to a buccaneering life on a destroyer. But
it was very restful; and as they put the
Hipsang incident down to my having been
shaken by my two wounds, they thought
it better that I should be rested by doing
shore duty for a period. I was placed on
one of the Liautishan defences, so there

222 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

was little for me to do but to watch the
constant mine-clearing operations in the
entrance. You cannot expect me to say
much that is good for the Japanese ; but
I must admit that they carried their at-
tempts to lay mine-fields in our fairway
with the utmost bravery and persistence
during my period at Liautishan. They
must have lost at least half a dozen
torpedo-boats in night attempts upon the
fairway. To give an honest opinion, they
were far too persistent, for they would
possibly have brought about better results
if they had been contented to lay their
mines farther out to sea. We had by this
a complete system for dragging the har-
bour channel, so that anything they an-
chored close in was certain to be exploded
on the following morning. But the Japan-
ese don't fear death, and fifty per cent of
them prefer to kill themselves sooner than
suffer the ignominy of capture.

The month's pastime of watching from

THE NAVAL SUB- LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 223

the summit of a mountain was occasionally
broken by a little long-range practice
against the more bold of the blockading
squadron ; but at this time, although we
occasionally made out battleships and cruis-
ers on the horizon, yet they never came in
to engage us. The torpedo craft and gun-
boats were constantly to be seen ; also from
a certain point in our mountain we could
catch a very considerable view of some of
the investing lines, — but there were strict
orders in our section that we were not to
waste ammunition in long-range practice
against the beseigers.

You ask what was the effect of shell-fire
in Port Arthur. Well, it was very dis-
agreeable, though I don't think it was very
harmful at this period : it caused a certain
number of casualties, especially amongst
the Chinese, but the parallels had not yet
been pushed up near enough to have the
disastrous effect on the buildings and works
that they have since had.

224 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY.

At the beginning of August I was re-
lieved of my shore duties, and was ap-
pointed acting flag-lieutenant to Admiral
Prince Ukhtomsky, second in command of
the Pacific Squadron. I joined him on the
Peresviet. Big business was on hand ;
messages had come through that it was
imperative that the Pacific Squadron should
leave Port Arthur, and either fight a fleet
action with the Japanese fleet, or make its
way to Vladivostock. There was to be no
middle course, no turning back. It was to
be either a decisive engagement at sea, or,
if we should succeed in eluding the yellow
man, a dash for the shores of Japan, and
then Vladivostock.

Judging from your papers, you people
seemed to think that the whole morale of
the Russian Pacific Fleet had been shat-
tered, and that we were worth nothing.
You were quite wrong. We might not
have had the same confidence which we
possessed at the beginning of the year;

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 225

but I assure you a grim determination had
permeated all ranks to do something to
wipe off the stigma of disgrace which was
hanging over us. The veiled taunts which
reached us from the highest authorities at
home were sufficient to have made a hero
of the veriest craven. We felt — that is,
we juniors did — that bad luck had been
with us from the very outset, and that
the time would come when we should get
an opportunity, and we were determined
that when that opportunity came we would
not be found wanting in the spirit to avail
ourselves of it. The fleet was coaled to
its utmost capacity, and every arrange-
ment made in order that the passage from
the inner to the outer harbour might be
taken as expeditiously as possible. Orders
were issued to every captain, containing
strict injunctions as to the course to be
pursued in the event of success, partial
success, partial failure, or absolute failure ;
and after receiving assurances from both

226 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT's STOBY,

home and Stoessel that the moment was
propitious, with a final blessing from the
garrison, we made the passage of the en-
trance on the night of August 9th, and
put to sea on the 10th.

Luck was against us from the outset.
The Bayan damaged herself in making the
passage, and we had perforce to start one
vessel short. Now, I want you to under-
stand that when we left Port Arthur
that morning, and saw the great maas of
rocks disappearing over our quarter, we,
none of us, not one, from captain to coal-
trimmer, ever expected to see that harbour
again, unless we returned with a victory to
our credit. That was the spirit which
animated the whole fleet, and that was
the spirit which kept us fighting through-
out that day. We knew that we should
have to fight, that it was impossible for us
to get away, since the Japanese must have
been aware of the fact that we were bring-
ing our battleships to the outer anchorage.

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT's STORY. 227

Nor were we mistaken, for we had barely
made thirty miles before Togo's fleet ap-
peared on our port bow. We — that is,
the Peresviet — were the fourth ship in the
battleship squadron. We were making
from about twelve to fourteen knots. How
anxiously we scanned the Japanese ships!
There was the fleet that had brought about
al] our disgrace and disaster; there were
the men whom we had pledged ourselves to
destroy or die in the attempt. We counted
the vessels — there were four line-of-battle
ships and four first-class cruisers ; and we
were six battleships and four cruisers. The
Japanese were accompanied by at least
eight divisions of torpedo craft ; it was to
be a final arbitrament between battle fleet
and battle fleet. The advantage in ships
and weight of metal was ours, but they
also had advantages which overbalanced
our numerical superiority. In the first
place, we had to economise coal ; our ships
had deteriorated considerably through the

228 THE NAVAL SUB-LIBUTBNANT's STORY.

stress of inactive war, by which I mean
that they were not all as serviceable as
they would have been if we had been able
to give them proper dockyard attention.
Also, the Japanese had had far more
practice in gunnery than we; but we
hoped that their weapons had somewhat
deteriorated by use, while, alas ! this could
not be said of ours, — at least, not to the
same degree. The Japanese Admiral made
the best use of his superior speed. From
his manoeuvres it would seem he feared
that we did not intend to give him battle.
Little did he know the feeling on our decks.
About mid-day he crossed our bows, and
then, changing from line abreast, he man-
oeuvred as though he would refuse a battle.
Previous to this there had been a slight
exchange of shots, but this was nothing, —
it was only just a little range-finding. It
was not until after two that the real battle
opened. Before this the Japanese Admiral
bad manoeuvred constantly, until he con-

THE NAVAL SUB-LIBUTBNANT's STORY. 229

sidered it time to admit of an engagement.
He was now almost abreast of us, 7000 to
8000 metres on our starboard beam. Both
fleets were line ahead, and in this formation
the battle opened.

We were six battleships, the Japanese
four and two cruisers, in line ahead. We
were now the fourth vessel in the line.
The flag-ship hoisted the signal " Engage,"
and immediately the firing commenced.
This phase of the battle lasted for about
an hour. It was severe, but not so severe
as that which was to come, for our Admiral
had now altered his course so as to reduce
the distance between the fleets. The vessel
which we had selected for our own partic-
ular target was one of the Fuji type ; and
although the sea was rising and made
gunnery at the present range extremely
difficult, yet we made at least three hits
with our heavy guns, and at one time
our target seemed to be. on fire. We re-
ceived no damage except to the mainmast,

230 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT's STORY.

which was carried away by a ricochet from
a shell that had exploded short of us on
impact with the water; nor did the ships
ahead of us seem to have received any very
serious damage, though the Retvisan and
the Pohieda were both hit.

There was a short respite — of perhaps
half an hour — while the two fleets were
converging, and then the action reopened
with desperate violence. The distance had
been reduced to about 6000 metres. How
the general trend of the action went it is
almost impossible for those who took part
in it as executive officers to say : all one
knows is what happened to one's own
vessel and to one's target. We still
continued to engage the vessel of the
Fuji type, while she or such other of
the Japanese vessels that had singled us
out seemed to find their range in quick
succession. Two 12 -inch shells hit us
amidships : one glanced upwards and burst
in the air; the other carried our foremast

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 231

away, and wrecked a portion of the upper
bridge. The tumult was appalling, for we
had now arrived at quick-firer range, and
a continuous stream of 12-pounder pro-
jectiles was passing above us, exploding
on our plates, or damaging our super-
structure. Ever and again at intervals
some great projeotUe 3d hit ns. dou.g
woeful damage ; but for the main part the
heavy projectiles missed, and we on the
bridge were so intent in watching for
signals from the flag-ship and in con-
forming to the fleet movements that we
had little time to estimate either the
damage to ourselves or the damage which
we effected.

What we did notice, at least, and what
appealed to us all, was the fact that one
of the Japanese battleships hauled out of
the firing-line just at the same moment
as their fleet was reinforced by two more
first-class cruisers. It seemed to us at the
moment that we were getting the best of

232 THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT's STORY.

it, and when the Japanese ship hauled out
of the line a cheer commenced from the
deck of the Tsarevitch which passed all
down our line. The sea also was getting
up, and the sun was sinking in front of
us: for the first time for many months
the hope of victory grew strong within our
breasts.

Our three leading ships seemed to be
concentrating their fire on the Mihasa^
which led the enemy's line. That their
shells were having great eflfect we could
see, for the Japanese flag -ship was con-
stantly hidden from our view by the dense
smoke which the explosions on her decks
had caused. Then, just at this moment,
when it seemed at last fortune had veered
in our favour, the destiny which rules the
law of chances turned against us. All we
knew at the time was that our flag-ship
had abruptly changed her course. She
swung to port without warning and
without signal, before it was realised that

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANt's STORY. 233

she was hit, and that her course had been
changed, not from necessity but from the
fact that she could not steer: the second
vessel had followed her round so closely
that a collision was narrowly avoided.
As there was no signal yet from the flag-
ship, we all conformed to this strange
mancEuvre ; but the intervals having been
lost in the heat of the ^angagement, the
squadron became a mob of vessels with-
out formation. But even this need not
have been final if the flag -ship could
only have made her signal. Then came
a paralysing intimation that the Admiral-
in- Chief had transferred the command.
We knew what that meant, — either that
he was killed or wounded; and my own
Admiral immediately ordered the fleet
signal for the squadron to conform to his
own movements.

And here the bitterness of our cup was
filled to the absolute brim. We had lost
both our masts, and we had not where-

234 THK NAVAL SUB-LIEUTBNANT'b BTORY.

with to hoist this signal, which was neoes-
sary to resuscitate order out of chaos.
Nor had Hhe Japanese been slow to realise
their opportunity, and they were throwing
projectiles into us with a rapidity of fire
that was absolutely appalling in its results.
My Admiral did all that he could do in
the circumstances. He steamed ahead,
flying the signal from a smoke-stack; but
it was too late. The cohesion was ir-
revocably lost, and the various captains,
apparently interpreting the worst clause
in their final instructions, saved themselves
by flight. It passeth the understanding
of men that the Japanese did not sink a
single one of us; and this fact indorses
my belief that it was sheer bad luck and
not good gunnery and seamanship that
beat us.

Thus closes the history of the Bussian
Pacific Fleet, as far as I can give it you.
What its ultimate end will be, you and
I can guess. But this I can promise you,

THE NAVAL SUB-LIEUTENANT'S STORY. 235

my friend — that, even if it takes Russia ten
years to build another and adequate Fleet,
and if it is manned by the same material
as this last, it will sweep everything in
these waters before it. We have learnt
our lesson.

236

XVL

OF AN OFFICER'S PATROL.

The subaltern commanding the officer's
patrol was well satisBed with his day's
work. And he had right to be, for, after
covering forty miles, he had procm'ed all
the information required from him. It
had been an exceptionally hard day. The
country was more or less water-logged, and
it had been impossible for him to keep his
patrol on the roads. The going had been
so bad that the major portion of the
journey had been undertaken on foot.
Both men and horses were thoroughly
tired, and the subaltern determined to
rest for three hours before pushing back
to headquarters.

He had reconnoitred right up to Fu-

OF AN officer's PATROL. 237

chau from Wa-fang-tien. He and his six
troopers had carried out this reconnaissance
without firing or drawing a single shot.
They had estimated the strength of the
Russian forces gathered at Wa-fang-tien,
and had made their way back a third of
the distance to Pu-lien-tien. For an hour
at least they had seen no sign of the
Russian screen; and as it was essential
to procure a reliable Chinese guide, the
subaltern determined to rest in a small
village which lay at the extreme end of
the valley they had just entered.

He reconnoitred the village with every
precaution, and finding it empty, after
posting a sentry at the approach by which
he had entered, led his patrol up to the
chief villager's house. The village at first
seemed to be deserted ; but the officer
dismounted before the great wooden gates
of the chief residence, and, undismayed by
the frightful caricatures of the god of war
and demons painted on the panels, knocked

238 OF AN officeb's patrol.

loudly. The only response for the time
being was the barking of dogs within. But
presently the grille in the wall chamber
to the left of the entrance was pulled
aside, and amid the opium Amies emitted,
appeared the yellow face of the janitor.
It is safe to conjecture that the inmates
feared a visit from Cossacks, for as soon
as the janitor realised that the wayfarers
were Japanese, he immediately closed the
grille cover, and shuffled round to open
the ponderous gates.

The great iron-bound doors swung in-
wards. The patrol dismounted and led
their horses into the courtyard within.
The Japanese in their manners are polite,
but they do not make war with kid
gloves; and while the subaltern was en-
gaging the janitor in conversation by means
of ideographs, scraped with the point of his
sword on the clay floor of the courtyard,
the troopers were leading their horses to
the byres and regaling the hungry animala

OP AN officer's patrol. 239

After the subaltern had wasted much effort
in trying to make the janitor understand,
that worthy finally shook his head and
pointed to the house, and then it was, and
then only, that the owner and his two
sons appeared. One of the sons had been
educated either in Kin-chau or Yin-kow,
and in spite of the fact that neither could
speak the other's language, yet by means
of the Chinese ideographs, which they both
understood, the Chinaman and the sub-
altern were able to converse, if not rapidly,
at least intelligibly. The troopers had now
tied up their horses, and were grouping
round their chief, watching with interest
the strange conversation which was taking
place. Behind them, through the torn and
battered lattices of the women's quarters,
could be seen the astonished and wondering
faces of the farmers' wives and daughters ;
while in the doorway half a dozen dirty
and ill-clad piccaninnies were gazing with
awestruck reverence at the strangely

240 OP AN OPFICEB's patrol.

dressed foreigners who had invaded the
privacy of their home. The Japanese
counts among his many good qualities an
unparalleled love for children, and the sotts-
offider of the party seeing the little ones,
stepped across and patted their heads,
much to the children's astonishment and
to the delight of the hysterical women
behind the barrier. The dogs, too, had
become reconciled to the presence of the
strangers, and were proceeding to establish
a confidence by nuzzling their boots and
spurs after the manner of their kind. It
was a scene that a De Neuville might have
depicted.

There is an impression in this country
that the Japanese soldier, officer and man,
is all that is perfection in the fulfilment of
his duties. We would hasten to assure the
reader that the Japanese are very, very
human, and that no mortal is perfect. A
Japanese subaltern of cavalry in command
of an officer's patrol is just as likely to

t « ^ » —

a- V aMT.'

»-»

OP AN officer's patrol. 241

make grievous errors as the young popinjay
of a British Lancer entering upon his first
campaign. Now there is one principle
which youthful subalterns commanding
patrols are very apt to forget — which is,
that the first duty of every officer, be he a
field -marshal commanding an army or a
lance-corporal directing a section, is to give
his enemy the credit of being just as astute
as himself. Now our subaltern, although
he had not seen the sign of a Cossack for
hours, had no right to risk the information
he had acquired by seeking the hospitality
of a village. It was good for his men and
horses to be rested and fed ; it was essential
that he should possess himself of a guide ;
but it was also obligatory that he should
not run the risk of his whole enterprise
proving fruitless. There are ways of rest-
ing and feeding horses even in moments
of dire necessity, and there are ways of
securing guides without jeopardising the
whole of your command. It so happened

242 OF AN officer's PATROL.

that, although he had posted a sentry to
his rear, apprehending that he might have
been followed, yet he had failed to place
a similar watch at the opposite extremity
of the village. This slight oversight was
to cost him a heavy penalty; but that is
always the way in war.

If it had not been that the old opium-
saturated janitor had found occasion to go
out through the gates into the street be-
yond, it is probable that the Japanese head-
quarters would never have heard of this
patrol again. As it was, the old man put
his withered head beyond the portico, to
view a half sotnia of Cossacks galloping
down the street. With more agility than
his shambling gait would have suggested,
the old man jumped back within the portico
and slammed the great gates, fixing bar
and bolt, — and just in time, though the
Japanese sentry at the far end of the
village had seen the hostile 'iprces, and
fearing that his comrades would be trapped,

OF AN officer's PATROL. 243

fired his carbine, and came galloping down
the street shouting at the top of his voice.
If it had not been for the old opium-eater,
his act of self-sacrifice would have come too
late : as it was, the sentry threw himself
from his saddle with the intention of selling
his life dearly, and doubtless of saving time
for his comrades within the Chinese en-
closure. But the Japanese are notoriously
poor horsemen, and in dismounting his
foot never cleared the stirrup, and he was
thrown headlong in the mud. A moment
later he was surrounded by his enemieSi
and butchered as he lay.

It did not require a square yard of ideo-
graphs to apprise the subaltern of the
nature of the surprise. Nor was there a
penman left to make the translation; for,
like disturbed rabbits on a warren, every
Chinaman in the courtyard vanished.

The subaltern threw a rapid glance round
the enclosure, and divided his five men into
three groups. There were only two spaces

244 OF AN officer's PATROL.

where it would be possible to scale the
mud walls, and these were from the two
adjoining roofs, which, as is common in
Manchurian villages, prolonged the align-
ment of the farmer's gable. He therefore
placed a man behind each of the inner
gates, the cracks of which served as loop-
holes, and commanded both the salient
approaches. The other three he stationed
in the portico, for the purpose of sweeping
the trees in the adjacent courtyards. He
himself, throwing his revolver loose, made
for the grille in the opium -den. Four
loathsome figures were lying prostrate on
the bench : one of them, who was still
sucking at the hideous spluttering tube,
glared upwards at the intruder with a
vacant stare; the others, saturated with
the narcotic, were dead to the world.
Hastily seizing a cap from one of these
creatures, the subaltern threw off his own
shako and covered his head with the r /Vpne
head-dress. He threw back the gfWZfe-cover

OF AN officer's PATROL. 245

and peered out. He had just one second to
take in the scene outside, to see the mangled
corpse of his trooper lying in the mud, and
to estimate the strength of his assailants,
before a bullet buried itself in the plaster
beside his cheek and filled his eyes with
dust. He shut back the cover, and in a
moment it was shattered by a second bullet.
Back he leapt — back into the courtyard —
and joined the three men in the portico.

The Bussians were battering at the gates,
and in broken Chinese demanding that they
should be opened. The Japanese could
afford to laugh at this, for the gates of
the Manchurian farmhouses are fashioned to
prevent the entrance of marauding bandits.
The Bussians, too, soon recognised this,
for the defenders could hear the hurried
orders of the officers, and presently a shot
from behind one of the inner gates showed
that the Bussians were reconnoitring
froflf^^the adjacent courtyards. Whether
the'fiot was successftil did not matter;

246 OF AN officer's PATROL.

it had the effect of stopping a movement
from that flank. Presently they heard the
sound of movement in the next courtyard,
and it was evident that the Bussians had
discovered ladders. The subaltern directed
his men to hold their fire until the scalers
were body up above the wall.

They had not long to wait. First they
saw three flat caps appearing simultane-
ously, then the muzzles of three carbines,
followed by white faces and blue tunics.
Now was the time. The three rifles
cracked simultaneously, and the three
white faces disappeared instantly. Again
the effort was made, more ladders had been
brought, and six faces rose over the level
of the wall. The troopers fired, and the
subaltern levelled his revolver twice : four
of the scalers collapsed, but two reached
the wall-coping and jumped to the ground.
They were followed immediately by others
behind them. It looked as if the little
party in the portico were about to be over-

OF AN OFFICEB'S PATROL. 247

whelmed. But the Japanese carbine-blocks
clicked rapidly ; four more shots rang out,
and although one more Bussian jumped to
the ground, there were only two on foot, for
one of the first had fallen to his knees. The
Cossacks rushed, but carbine and revolver
were ready for them, and they dropped in
their tracks before they had made a dozen
yards. The subaltern went forward, hur-
riedly reloading his weapon, to see if a
coup'de-grdce were necessary; but he was
satisfied in removing the carbines and
carrying them back to the portico. No
further attempt was made to scale the
wall.

Night was now beginning to fall, and
the subaltern realised, that although he
might successfully beat off another attack,
yet as long as he remained trapped, there
would be no means of getting his informa-
tion to headquarters. This information was
everything,— the actual fate of his patrol
mattered not at all. He must formulate

248 OF AN OFFICER^S PATROL.

some plan. The straw-byres and the in-
flammable roof of the farmer's dweUing
caught his eya In a moment he came to
a decision : he called his sous-officier to
him, and gave him a paper upon which he
had scrawled a rough map, and written
his notes during their mid-day halt. His
orders were as follows : " We will set fire
to these stacks and to the roof of the
house ; as soon a^ they are making a good
blaze and smoke you will climb over the
roof, through the flames if necessary, while
we throw open the doors and endeavour to
escape, by that means engaging and at-
tracting the enemy. You will get away as
best you can with those papers, and deliver
them to the colonel before daybreak to-
morrow. Trust in the Emperor to help
you."

The sous-officier looked at him steadily
a moment, and saluting said, *'But you,
Excellency, will be killed. How can I
leave you? We will distract the enemy

OF AN officer's PATROL. 249

while your Excellency escapes with the
papers."

The subaltern replied, "Brave man, I
appreciate your motive ; but you have my
orders ; my orders you cannot disobey."

«* But ! "

"My orders you cannot disobey; you
have my orders."

The souS'officier was reduced to silence :
he saluted, and then secreted the papers
in his vest.

It was now dark enough, and the sous-
officier crept back into the opium-den and
collected two of the smokers' lamps. With
these they set fire to the stable and the
straw-ricks. Owing to the wet, for some
time the ricks refused to bum; but the
troopers pulled out great armfuls of straw
from the centre, and in ten minutes the
whole of one side of the courtyard was a
great roaring sheet of flame. The sparks
flew upwards, and the wind, fanning the
flames> carried them to the roof of the

250 OF AN OFPICBR's PATROL.

dwelling. Beneath the tiles the dressing
was dry and inflammable ; the paper win-
dows and the wooden lattices crackled and
burnt like tinder. There was just one
point where the sous-offider could break
through. As soon as he was in position,
the subaltern called his remaining four
men, and Iming them up faced the gate-
way.

Already they heard the jeering shouts
of the Cossacks outside ; the wretched
Chinese inhabitants, from the men's and
the women's quarters alike, were bolting
out like driven hares and seeking shelter
behind the inner wall. The men were
silent, but the women were wailing aa
they saw. their home gutted before their
eyes. War is cruel and horrible — it knows
no mercy.

The subaltern gave the word, the bolts
were pulled back, the bars thrown over, and
the gates clanged open. With the national
battle-cry on their lips the handful of de-

OF AN officer's PATROL. 251

voted little men dashed through the open-
ing. A semicircle of flashes broke the wall
of outer darkness ; for perhaps one minute
the rifles crackled, and then all was
over. . . .

The sovs-offider delivered the papers at
daybreak. It is common history how the
Japanese flank-attack marched by the way
of the Fu-chau road and wrecked Stackel-
burg's army at Tehlitz. What does one
officer's patrol more or less matter?

252

XVII.

THE LAST SERVICE

Those who have made tjie journey from
Chefoo or Wei-hai-Wei to Shanghai during
the winter months know how rough it can
be in the Yellow Sea. Viewed after the
gigantic scale of nature, the Yellow Sea
and Gulf of Pe-chili are but shallow saucers
filled with water. The slightest external
disturbance is sufficient to convulse them,
and once convulsed the resistance from
shallow bottom and rock-bound coast-line
renders navigation both difficult and
dangerous. This fact being understood,
the reader will more readily appreciate
the fixity of purpose which not only found
the Japanese destroyers committed to the
friry of these uncertain seas, but also

THE LAST SERVICE. 253

successful in navigating their cockle-shell
torpedo craft the two hundred miles from
their base to Port Arthur, and, in spite
of wintry seas and blinding blizzards,
carrying out the duties intrusted to
them. The thoughtful naval student
marvels at their success, yet, having re-
viewed the circumstances, is prepared to
condone failure. However much the
Western expert may extend his toler-
ance, there is one code which permeates
the Japanese naval and military services
which will recognise nothing but success.

It so happened that a division of
Japanese destroyers was launched forth
on an expedition in the face of an almost
typhonic blizzard. It was a storm that
would drive every coasting steamer and
cargo -packet into the nearest haven.
There was not a signal station between
Wusung and Chefoo that had not had
the warning storm-ball hoisted for days.
In the teeth of such a storm it is not

254 THE LAST SERVICE.

surprising that the division of Japanese
torpedo craft disintegrated. Two of the
boats, battling against the adverse circum-
stances, were partially successful in their
mission. Another was never heard of
again. The commander of the fourth,
however, having lost touch with his con-
sorts, put into practice that virtue which
we in the West countenance as " the
better part of valour."

Eight hours after he had started he put
back into the torpedo base, and made his
signal to the commander of the flotilla that
the Yellow Sea, just as it has been at this
season of the year to countless sailors be-
fore him, was impossible. If the reader
knows the Japanese he can realise what
the feelings of this commander must have
been when, twelve hours later, one of his
consorts followed him back to the rendez-
vous and made the signal that it had been
successful in its mission. One can almost
see the man standing on the bridge of his

THE LAST SERVICB. 255

own boat watching the little craft return-
ing, sheeted in white from stem to stem,
crusted like a Christmas cake with the frost
and icicles of the frozen spume. One can
appreciate the bitterness of his soul when
he heard that although thirty per cent of
the crew were frost-bitten, yet they had
done damage to the enemy which was of
greater value to Japan than half a dozen
destroyers. It is during moments like
these that a subaltern realises the true
note of discipline. Discretion may be the
better part of valour, but power of dis-
crimination in such cases is not vested in
the man who is intrusted with the mission,
but is the responsibility of the brain that
formulates the plan; This at least is the
spirit of our allies* conception of service
discipline. • . .

A destroyer put into Admiral Togo's
rendezvous. It slipped in through the
boom, and, passing down the line of
anchored battleships, slid in alongside the

256 THE LAST SEBTIOE.

dep6t vessel. The lieutenant -commander,
who wore two decorations commemorative
of the Chinese war, climbed up the side
of the mother ship and reported to the
post captain, who commanded the whole
flotilla. He had not been on board
five minutes when the flag-ship's launch
came panting alongside. The boarding
lieutenant of the day stepped lightly on
deck and, saluting, gave information that
the chief naval staff* officer would like to
see the commander of the incoming de-
stroyer. Every one of the officers who
made the little group standing on the
quarter-deck of the torpedo dep6t vessel
knew what this message implied. But
there was not a single face that gave ex-
pression to the thoughts passing in each
mind. The commander of the destroyer
saluted his seniors, his face lighting up
momentarily with the expressionless
Japanese smile, and then accompanied

THE LAST SERVICE. 257

the boarding officer down to the picket
launch.

Arrived at the flag-ship, the commander
was conducted at once to the cabin of the
chief staff officer. That officer received
him with all the courtesy and polite dig-
nity which is associated with the service
etiquette of this great people. The com-
mander was instructed to state his story
of his unsuccessful mission. This he did in
a straightforward and seamanlike manner.
When he had finished, the chief of the staff
handed him the paper packet of cigarettes
which lay on the table. Then drawing in
his breath to the full extent of his lungs,
the chief staff officer said, " Lieutenant
Watanabe, you are relieved of the com-
mand of your boat, and you will report
yourself for duty to the commander of the
gimboat Oshima"

The face of the commander as he heard
this news was as expressionless as that of

258 THE LAST SERVICE.

the staff officer as he gave the order.
Watanabe saluted gravely and withdrew
from the cabin. He passed to the quarter-
deck and joined a group of officers of his
own seniority. They discussed the fortunes
of the war, the prospects of the future, and
the various topics which were of interest
at the moment; and then the picket-boat
having been piped, the lieutenant - com-
mander went over the side, smiling to his
friends. Yet, as he passed down the gang-
way and returned the salute of the sentry,
to all intents and purposes he was a dead
man. And what is more, every one of his
friends knew this.

The gunboat Oshima was lying in
Chemulpo harbour. For the time being
she was doing guardship at that port,
while it was the sea base of the 12th
Division of Imperial Japanese Infantry.
The officer in command and the first
lieutenant had gone on shore to be pre-
sent at some entertainment which was

THE LAST SERVICE. 259

being given by the Japanese Consul in
connection with the mission of the Marquis
Ito to the Court at Seoul. Lieutenant
Watanabe, who was now doing duty as
second lieutenant on the Oshimay was
therefore left in charge. It is half an
hour's run in a steam launch from the
anchorage to the mud flat landing-stage
at Chemulpo. Watanabe silently paced
the quarter-deck until he saw the empty
launch returning. As soon as he made
out her wave he sent one of the watch
to call the second engineer. When that
oflScer arrived the two men paced the deck
for perhaps five minutes, and then the
lieutenant went below, while the second
engineer busied himself with certain in-
structions to the crew of the launch. In
half an hour Watanabe returned on deck.
He was in fuU dress uniform, with his orders
upon his breast ; his sailor servant brought
up two wicker baskets and immediately
passed them down to the launch. A

260 THE LAST SBRVICB.

muster of the crew was then piped, and
Watanabe formally handed over the com-
mand of the ship to the ofl&cer of the
watch. Then, accompanied by the second
engineer and two other junior officers, all
in full dress uniform, he moved towards
the ship's side.

As he climbed down the ladder every
hand was raised in silent salute. The
little midshipman on the launch shouted
"Cast off," the tiny bell tinkled, the
engines revolved, and Watanabe severed
his connection with the Japanese navy.
As the boat-hook left the ship's side the
Rising Sun at the peak was dipped. Away
went the launch ; Watanabe, standing in
her stern, sees and acknowledges the
homage that the ship's company pays him.
Away she sped, with her head pointing
seawards towards the scene of the battle
between the Variag and Uriu's squadron.

The entrance to Chemulpo harbour is
a network of rugged islets and pinnacle

THE LAST SEBYICE. 261

rocks. For the most part these are un-
inhabited except for a few poverty-stricken
fishermen, and it is only the larger that
ca<n boast of their squalid homesteads. It
was to one of the uninhabited islands that
the launch made her way : she ran into
a little cove, and the party of officers in
the stem sprang lightly ashore. Wata-
nabe's servant passed the wicker baskets
after them, and then his master and the
second engineer moved over to a little
secluded bay. Here the servant accom-
panied them with the baskets. Both men
proceeded at once to divest themselves of
their uniforms, and it was noticeable that
Watanabe carefully brushed and folded
each garment as he took it off. When
undressed both men went down into the
sea and washed themselves all over. The
baskets were now open. They contained
two complete suits of pure white garments.
Both men dressed in these, and the second
engineer, bowing to his brother officer.

262 THE LAST SEBVIOE.

moved away to make some preparations
ekewhere.

The servant was about to pick up his
master's uniform when Watanabe detached
the two medals from his frock -coat, and
wrapping them in a piece of paper, in-
structed him to take them to his home in
Japan. "The rest," he said, pointing to
his uniform and his sword, "will go with
me."

The servant carried the personal effects
away, and Watanabe was left alone. He
turned and looked seaward over the dull
grey expanse of water towards the horizon
which stood out as the line dividing him
from the stronghold of his country's enemy.
He never took his gaze away from that sky-
line until the second engineer returned and
took him by the hand and led him to the
place which was prepared. Here the crew
of the launch had assembled. They stood
round in a semicircle, and placed in front
of them was a white sheet. At one end

THE LAST SERVICE. 263

was a Japanese pillow, at the' other a
little table. On this lay, wrapped in clean
white paper, a short knife. Watanabe
strode to the sheet ; he bowed to his com-
rades, and they all stood at attention in
mute salute. He then sat down and ar-
ranged his posture so that his neck might
lie upon the pillow. Having settled him-
self he proceeded to unfold the lower por-
tion of his dress and lay bare some four
inches of skin from the waistband upwards.
The second engineer handed him the paper-
covered knife ; he seized it in the middle of
the blade, and turning his head, bowed as
well as he could in his prostrate position
to his comrades. His eyes finally sought the
second engineer's. This officer was in posi-
tion : he stood at Watanabe's right side
with a naked sword in his hand. At an
inclination of the doomed man's head he
raised the blade skyw^arda With one
bold, firm, and determined action^ Watan-
abe self-inflicted a slight incision from left

264 THE LAST SERVICE.

to right; he turned his eyeballs upwards,
the second engineer caught the signal, and
with a single sweep of the sword he helped
Watanabe to vindicate his own honour,
the honour of his forbears, and the fair
name of Japan.

A fire was at hand, and in half an hour
Watanabe, his uniform, and his sword had
been treated to the obsequies of a fallen
Japanese hero. When the watch on the
Oshima saw the volume of smoke rising
skywards fi:om the island, they lowered
the emblem of the rising sun half-mast
from the peak. • . .

Thus it was that when foreigners in
Tokio read the notice in the Japanese
papers that Lieutenant K. E. Watanabe
had died on active service, and had been
given a posthumous decoration by the Em-
peror, they came to the conclusion that
there had been some naval side issue which
the Japanese had not considered it ex-
pedient to publish in detail.

265

XVIII.

"ACTUM EST DE

A SOLITARY observer stood upon the crest of
a snow- wrapped eminence. As he was en-
veloped in a voluminous military cloak with
a hood, it was almost impossible to make
out the features of the man, or to discover
any reason for his solitary observations. A
little scrubby grey beard, upon which the
breath was already frozen, and two tiny
twinkling coals of eyes, were all that were
visible. But away in front of the observer
stretched perhaps the most pregnant mili-
tary spectacle that the century is likely
to see.

The knoll upon which the observer stood
was a detached eminence a little to the
rear of a broken ridge : at the foot of this

266 "ACTUM EST DB ."

ridge lay a white-carpeted valley sloping
up, at first gently, and then almost pre-
cipitately, to a second barrier of snow-
capped rock. Away beyond this rose huge
masses of volcanic debris^ a frowning wall
of Nature's ramparts. But in spite of the
chaste mantle with which the elements had
striven to shroud Nature's handiwork, the
whole panorama bristled with the works
of man. There was not an eminence but
showed by its bevelled crest -line that
sappers and engineers had laboured to
aid Nature in her scheme of massive
strength. In the distance loomed great
citadels with blasted parapet and stone-
revetted curtain. In the middle distance
the snow - drifts ill disguised fantastic
patterns, whose sinuous trace betrayed in-
genioue devioe in modem oUtedL and
abbattis. And then at the solitary ob-
server's feet, the plain, that should have
been a bare expanse of winter white, was
coursed and seamed with earthworks, so

"actum est de /' 267

that with parallel and traverse, covered*
way and shelter -trench, it gave the im-
pression of some huge irrigation or mining
area.

It would be hard to find a simile to
describe a panorama so enthralling : if you
turned with the solitary observer and
looked behind the knoll, the scene that
met your gaze at once pictured a gigantic
ant-heap : the reverse of every hill was
teeming with thousands of human beings.
Ant-like, hundreds of these were grouped
beneath the crest-lines ; others were labour-
ing in long strings, hauling supplies, am-
munition. I inapSmente tf v„L sum-
mits; while far below were the countless
tabernacles which protected the vast be-
sieging army from the rigours of a Man-
churian winter. A great transport queue,
men, vehicles, and animals, was slowly
crawling northwards, marking the channel
which fed 80,000 men. Here and there
faint wisps of smoke curled skyward. A

268 "ACTUM EST DB — /'

warm winter sun gave lustre and spark-
ling brilliance to the picture. The slow
movement, minute detail, and strange
grouping emphasised the simile of an
army of ants.

But there are other scenes and sounds
which dispel as an illusion the suggestion
of a peaceful working day. The still winter
air quivers and vibrates as the huge water-
shed in the west catches and hurls back
in deafening reverberation a continuous
din of war. Just watch that nearest
crest-line for a moment. Flash after flash
gleams out against the embevelled top;
great geysers of snow and d^ris-dust
spurt skywards to swell the lowering
yeUow cloud drifting sullenly along the
valley. Ever and anon from the citadels
behind, great pillars of white smoke
unmask the batteries where Russian
gunners ply their trade. Look down in
the parallels below. Your ear squirms to
the laboured whir of enormous shells as

"actum est de ." 269

they displace the frosty air. They strike
and burst upon the snow, raising fleecy
clouds, which join the shrapnel smoke
drifting to augment the pall that shrouds
the doomed city. From behind you comes
the bark of field-guns in action, while to the
left the welkin throbs with the windage-
screech of worn howitzers.

The hand of God had fashioned this
scene an artist's paradise; the works of
puny man have made it a veritable
Hades. In a theatre so extensive and
so full of fearsome setting it is difficult
to particularise. The tumult, the awful
consequences of the issue, the despair of
yesterday, the hopes of to-day, and the
terror for to - morrow so confuse and
depress you that the panorama survives
only as some hideous dream. For one
second you are spell - bound with the
spectacle of some magnificent demonstra-
tion of military discipline and endurance ;
the next moment you are appalled and

270 "actum est de

»»

paralysed by some ghastly act of carnage.
The triumphs of human intellect and the
acme of human brutality stand hand in
hand. It is bad to be an uninterested
spectator of such a scene. Happy the
man to whom it is foreign; blessed the
country that never bred her sons for this I
Just follow our gaze to the foot of the
knoll above which the solitary observer
stands. A Japanese battery is here in
action. The squat guns nestle beneath a
rise. The limbers lie in a cutting behind,
and the ammunition carriers have worn
just half a dozen tracks in the snow, like
sheep -tracks on the face of a Highland
brae. As you watch you can see each
motion of the gunners. As unconcernedly
as if they were firing a holiday salute in
Shiba Park they run the gun back, sponge
it out, readjust the spade, and relay the
piece. You are near enough to hear the
click of the breech as it snaps home.
You see the gun groups spring aside, —

"actum est de ." 2*71

Number One with his lanyard taut. You
hear the quick order of the section com-
mander, and then you strain your eyes to
separate your individual flash fix)m the
score of bursting shrapnel sparkling above
the target. The battery commander walks
up and down behind the guns, ever and
anon beating his arms agamst his chest
to banish the numbness from his chilled
extremities. He stoops to pick up a
fragment of a shell that exploded almost
at his feet, tosses it away, and steps
forward to correct a range. The Russian
guns have discovered the battery; salvoes
of shrapnel biu*st above the Japanese
gunners. Though the spiteful crackle of
their rapid explosions almost deafens you,
and though you can see the snow scourged
up all round the battery by the vicious
strike, there is no alteration or diminution
in the service of the guns. Three men
and a subaltern from the left section are
swept to the ground. The battery com-

272 "actum est db

mander was talking to the subaltern at
the moment. He takes no notice of his
fallen conu*ade, but moves up to the
bereaved section. He leaves two hos-
pital orderlies, who are lying in the
snow behind him, to judge whether the
fallen are worthy of the hospital. More
Russian missiles have been attracted to
the target. Now the canopy of bursting
shrapnel above them seems continuous.
Then all sound is dwarfed by the rushing
advent of a giant projectile. For a moment
the battery is blotted out behind a great
flash of lurid flame and pillar of smoke
and snow. It drifts aside ; one gun of the
battery is totally destroyed, another stands
solitary, while the displaced snow on every
side is blurred with mangled gunners.
Out of this wreck the battery com-
mander emerges, gives the order to cease
firing, and then himself sinks motionless
across a trail.

We turn to the silent watcher on the

"actum est de •" 273

hill-top and wonder what is passing in his
mind. Such details as a decimated battery
have no concern for him. He is the man,
the one man, responsible for the success or
failure of these stupendous operations. He
turns and walks slowly down the reverse
of the hill. He has barely moved when a
chance projectile bursts almost on the spot
he had just left, obliterating the very foot-
marks that his boots had made : he never
turns his head. One can only conjecture
the outcome of his short quarter of an hour
of observation. Judging by results, we
may hazard that he had that day re-
ceived the whip from Tokio which apprised
him of the menace of Russian reinforce-
ments, — a whip that made it imperative
that his army should seize some position
from which it would be possible to destroy
the remnants of the Port Arthur shipping.
Although, as he passed down to rejoin his
staff, which was waiting for him at the
foot of the hill, there was nothing to be

274 "actum est db -

read in his impassive face, yet we may
oonjecture that the result of that brief
solitary observation would be destined to
render desolate another five thousand
homes/ Such is war I . . .

A great white Empress liner steamed
into Kobe harbour and dropped anchor
in that sunny port at the entrance to
the Inland Sea. The Company's launch
conveyed the meny party of foreign pass-
engers to the Bund. Here they were
duly passed through the Customs and
then turned adrift in the sea-town, to be
mobbed for patronage by a concourse of
ricksha coolies. Sturdy fellows, who by
their emplojrment in a treaty port had
picked up sufficient of the foreigner's
language to enlist his sympathy and
to extort his money. Healthy, cheery
children.

One foreigner had business in the town,
and he stepped into the nearest ricksha
"^thout a glance at the man who was

"actum est db ." 275

to pull it. On arriving at his destination
he turned to the coolie to instruct him
to wait.

" Very good, master, my number ' Sixty-

• 9 if

nine.

For the first time the foreigner noticed
that the coolie was not only a well-set-up
brawny fellow, but also that he was hand-
some, and, for a Japanese of his class, in-
telligent in feature. The foreigner com-
pleted his business, and, returning to the
street, called for " Sixty - nine." Half a
dozen rickshas left the line of expectants
in front of the building, and then a very
old and gaunt coolie pushed in before
them all, shouting in pigeon English,
"This one. Sixty-nine have got."

"The devil take you," said the foreigner,
" you are not my coolie."

The old man doffed his soup-tureen hat
to expose the number, and burst into a
voluble explanation. It chanced that one
of the Japanese clerks of the establish-

276 "ACTUM EST DB ."

ment had accompanied the foreigner into
the street. He immediately translated —

"Sir, this old man wishes to apologise
to you deeply, but it was his grandson's
ricksha that you took. While his grand-
son was waiting here for you, he was
called up as a reserve man to join the
army, therefore his grandfather has taken
his place."

We have finished with the foreigner, and
we will follow the fortunes of Sixty-nine.
The little slip of paper, issued from the
Regimental Depdt, had arrived at his
home just about the same time as he had
taken up the foreigner on the Bund. The
old grandfather had at once hastened with
the paper down to the station to give it
to his grandson. One of the unsuccessful
clamourers for patronage had advised the
old man where the " fare " had taken
his grandson. Following this direction,
he found his grandson waiting for the
foreigner. Immediately the two men had

'* ACTUM EST DB ." 277

changed clothes, and number Sixty -nine
went straightway to his home.

It was a poor little home, just a slight
erection of matchwood and greased paper,
buried amongst thousands of others of the
same type in the most populous portion
of the town. As number Sixty - nine
walked up to the dilapidated verandah
two women were awaiting him, the one
an elderly dame in a neat gown, the
other a slip of a child -wife poorly but
gracefully dressed in a striped kimono.
Both women greeted him with a smile
of welcome, bowed low, for the courtesies
of womanly etiquette stimulate both the
highest and the lowest in Japan. Both
the women knew the nature of his errand.
The one was giving a grandson to the
call of duty, the other a husband. But
though their feelings were actually the
same as those which would have torn
Western women in similar circumstances,
yet there is no code in Japan which will

278 . "ACTUM EST DB ."

allow women to show anything but glad-
ness either in patriotic sacrifice to their
country or in duty to their men folk.

Tied to the back of the child-wife, and
peeping over her shoulder, was a tiny
little brown face. Just a microscopic imi-
tation of the human face : it was a six-
months'-old baby. And it crooned glee-
fully as it recognised its father. The
parting was to be short and undemon-
strative; in five minutes Sixty -nine had
collected the few personal effects that he
wished to take with him: a packet of
cigarettes, a few odds and ends, and an
insignificant extract from the household
funds. Sixty-nine bowed low and dutifully
to his grandmother. Then he turned to
his wife. Although her eyes could barely
keep back the tears, yet etiquette forced
from her the wifely smile, and she bowed
lowly to her husband. For a moment he
stood toying with the little face that
peered over her shoulder ; the child crowed

** ACTUM EST DB /' 279

happily, and throwing up its tiny hand
seized a tinsel ornament from its mother's
hair. With a convulsive effort it pulled
it out and offered it to its father. The
ricksha coolie smiled, and taking the child's
gift, pinned it on his breast. One more
pat on the tiny cheek, one more bow to
his grandmother, and Sixty-nine was gone
to swell the army of ants which were to
undermine Port Arthur. . . .

A wayside station. The platform is
teeming with a gay crowd; the whole of
the railway buildings are festooned with
strings of lanterns and bunting. On every
side- children and grown men are waving
flags with the national device — a blood-red
spot on a white field. The white-shakoed
policemen are good-naturedly keeping the
crowd of gaudily dressed women and ex-
cited children away from the two brass
bands which have played the students from
the neighbouring educational establishments
down to the station. On all the houses.

280 "actum est db ."

heaped artistically on either side of the
permanent way, are floating either the
national flag or great paper balloons repre-
senting fantastic dragons or sea monsters.
This scene is the external evidence of a
nation's patriotism.

A bell rings in the station, the policemen
and porters press the crowd back from the
edge of the platform as a troop-train steams
in. It must halt to take water. A deafen-
ing shout of " Banzai " breaks out from the
enthusiastic concourse; a thousand heads,
showing the yellow facings of a Kobe bat-
talion, are thrust from the carriage windows,
and the soldiery give back an answering
hurrah which drowns the united efforts of
the schoolboy bands. Daintily dressed
women press forward with little presents of
cigarettes, sweetmeats, and fruit ; infirm
and elderly veterans, who remember the
civil war, and who have never yet donned
European clothes, hobble with the aid of
sticks to press a coin into the hands of the

"AC5TUM EST DB ." 281

generation that has been chosen to vindicate
their country's honour. Younger men, with
their breasts decked with the medallions
that tell of a past Manchurian campaign,
hold up infants in whose hands are those
pretty little talismans which their wives
have worked for the safe-keeping of those
who go forth to war. Although the soldiers
shout in the ecstasy of their excitement,
yet the very scene upon the platform brings
back to the minds of most the homes that
they are leaving, perhaps never to return.
The engine whistles. Ofl&cials push back
the thronging well-wishers, and the train
rolls out of the station amid the cheering,
which voices the nation's blessing. How
many will ever see their homes again!
Have we not read the report that one
regiment at Port Arthur went into action
two thousand eight hundred strong, and
mustered on the captured position two
hundred and eight rank and file! . . .
If the spectator had again climbed to the

282 "actum est db /*

summit of the snow-wrapped hillock from
which the commander-in-chief of the be-
sieging army had made his final calculations,
he would have seen that some movement
of moment was in preparation. To right
and left, almost as far as the eye could
see, parallel lines of cordite flashes showed
that the little gunners were doing their
utmost. The whole atmosphere shrieked
and throbbed with the passage of the
iron messengers from great naval guns;
with the discordant screech of thundering
howitzers, the vicious snap of field-guns,
and the dull monotonous roar as the mount-
ains gave back the culminating echoes from
thousands of bursting projectiles.

The ridge seemed to seethe and dis-
integrate before this appalling onslaught.
It appeared that the very crest -line had
been riven away. A great curtain of yellow
picric smoke swept up as a barrier between
the ridge and the major defences, and then
caught by the bitter north wind that swept

"ACTUM EST DB ." 283

across the peninsula, it mingled with the
coal-smoke from the harbour and was carried
away seawards as a murky haze. Tet even
where it was densest its breast sparkled
and scintillated with the flashes of fuse-
burst shrapnel which were pouring over
the position in countless hundreds. Every
cover behind suggested movement. The
great army of ants was about to migrate.

But it is not of the ants as an army we
would write : to follow the fortune of the
whole is but to indifferently usurp the rdle
of the historian. Those who would know of
war should learn of it from the standpoint
of the humblest atom that goes to furnish
the whole. Let us single out one solitary
ant from these masses clinging under the
crest -lines and the protecting cover of the
parallels, waiting the moment to arrive
when they shall be loosed upon that seething
inferno which is their destined goal.

Number Sixty - nine's teeth chattered
as if his jaws would break. It was not

284 "actum est db ."

from fear or excitement ; there were few
amongst the two hundred men standing
at ease in that particular parallel who
were cursed with nerves, or even, if they
had once known what fear was, gave
now a thought for the chances of bodQy
hurt or death. Six months ago they might
have been recruits, now they were veterans.
The men stood at ease in the slush at the
bottom of the trench, and as they stood
the biting wind from the north blew
through them and chilled them to the
bone. They were awaiting the order to
assault. Half an hour ago they had taken
off their greatcoati^ and piled them in a
casemate. They carried nothing but their
rifles and ammunition. No wonder they
were cold, for the wind was such that
it would have cut through the thick-
est fur, and these men were clad in serge
alone. Some stamped their feet and others
rubbed their hands ; but for the most part
they stood still, and betrayed no movement

"actum est de ." 285

but the quivering chin. The company
ofl&cers shivered with the men, save for the
regimental staff, who were grouped round
the colonel studying a rough sketch of the
ground which any moment now they might
be called upon to cross.

If the foreigner whom we have already
connected with Sixty-nine were now to see
his man, he would never recognise in the
thin, haggard, bearded face the same robust
and sleek coolie who had so pleased him
when he landed in Japan. But though he
looked drawn and emaciated, and though
the biting cold had changed his colour
from full blood-bronze to greenish yeUow,
yet withal he was hard and desperate.
The lustre in the little almond eyes showed
that though hardship and exposure had
wasted the flesh, yet it had brought no
deterioration in spirit and muscle. Just
look down the line to satisfy yourself on
this point. There was but one wish ani-
mating that qv£ue of pigmy soldiery; it

286 "ACTUM EST DB ."

was that the order might come speedily
which would release them from inaction
and the misery of its attendant cold.

Sixty-nine's eyes were glued on the little
casemate in front of which he stood : it was
a mere hole excavated beneath the parapet,
and in it crouched two men of the Signal
Corps. One of them had his ear pressed to
the telephone receiver. He caught Sixty-
nine's gaze and nodded slightly. Sixty-
nine knew what it meant : the long-waited-
for order was coming; mechanically he
shifked his rifle to his left hand, and
measured the distance which separated
him from the foot-purchase which the sap-
pers had left at intervals along the parallels
for the purpose of egress. The second
«ignaU« w.;*. down the brief n>e^,
and ran to the group of ofl&cers worrying
the map. The colonel, who was squatting
Japanese fashion, took the paper, rose to
his feet, deliberately divested himself of
his overcoat, then running up the foot-

"actum est db /' 287

hold, in a moment was standing alone upon
the parapet.

There was no call to attention; the
simple order passed down the ranks, and
in a second, like ants, the men were
swarming over the obstacle into the open.
In moments like these memory serves you
badly. You might be engaged for hours
in a hand-to-hand struggle, and then
perhaps at the end one or two trivial in-
cidents alone would remain in your mind.
How he got out of the trench, or what
happened when once he was out, Sixty-
nine never knew. He remembered racing
at the head of his group behind his cap-
tain; and then his captain threw up his
arm in signal, and the next moment they
were all lying down in the snow. All he
heard was the infernal tumult of the
shells as they chased each other overhead.
He remembered turning half over and
feeling with his hand, uncertain whether,
in brea«tinff the parapet, a certain Uttl,

288 "ACTUM EST DB ."

tinsel talisman had not been torn from
its place round the second button of his
tunic.

How long they lay there it does not
matter; but presently the captain called
back to the company subaltern, the section
leaders re-echoed the call, and they were
all up, rushing for the slope above them.
Then for the first time the proximity
of the enemy was forced upon them.
Like the opening of a barrage, the full
force of a held musketry fire broke upon
them. The swish and splutter of the
nickel hail killed all other sounds. The
whole column seemed to wither before it,
and with Sixty-nine following on his heels
the ofiicer threw himself down behind some
rocks that appeared black and naked
through the snow, and realised that, of
two hundred men, perhaps fifteen had
reached the temporary haven.

There was no diminution in the high
treble song of the bullets, and for the

"ACTUM EST DB ." 289

first time Sixty - nine looked back. It
seemed that the whole plain was moving.
Not alone from the parallel they had just
left, but from all the parallels, were de-
bouching streams of yellow men, — yellow
in dress, yellow in skin, and yellow in
facings. Then his officer rose up and
stood erect. They had reached dead
ground, and until more should also reach
it, they would be passive spectators of
the passage of the plain.

But although the parallels overflowed
in hundreds, only dribblets reached the
dead ground. The company ensign un-
furled the company flag, and planted it
in the snow. The tiny nucleus among the
rocks cheered, and as they cheered the
prostrate men in the plain below re-echoed
the national cry. The check was only
temporary, for the gunners had discovered
the works from which the flank fire came,
and half of the guns turned their energies
on that point. Within fifteen minutes of

290 "ACTUM EST DE

gaining the dead ground the officers were
able again to form up the residue of their
companies.

Five minutes' respite, and the order
passed down the ranks to light grenades.
In a moment the men were stooping to
blow the slow-matches at their waists;
and it was forward and up again. The
ensign seized his flag, and with the
agility of an antelope carried it in the
lead. Fifteen to twenty yards and they
were right under the parapet with its
sandbag dressing. Sixty -nine threw his
grenade over it, and as each panting man
arrived at the parapet the air was filled
with the hissing of these strange missiles.
A moment, and then the flaxen beards
appeared over the top of the sandbags,
and magazines were emptied at point-blank
range into the head of the attack. The
ensign fell, the captain feU, the stormers
fell in sheaves. Sixty-nine tried to scale

"actum est de -." 291

the parapet, but the snow crumbled and
gave. Then some one pushed him from
behind, lifted him bodily, and before he
realised how it happened he had gained
a foothold on the summit : he shortened
his arm to strike, but there was no enemy
to oppose him. Inside the trench was a
spluttering fire-swept hell : the grenades
were now doing their duty, and, scared
by this unexpected danger, the Bussians
were flying from the farther end. It
was all over. With shouts of " Banzai 1 "
the panting infantry hauled itself up into
the position.

The first line of the defence was taken.
It had cost much in the taking, but this
was trifling to the cost of holding it.
The Bussian gunners had seen their dark-
coated comrades streaming away to the
second line. They had seen the cloud of
smoke -pufis from the bursting grenades,
and they could see the streams of yellow

292 "ACTUM EST DB ."

men entering the parallel. What the
bayonets had not been able to do shrap-
nel quickly accomplished. The Japanese
officers tried to find cover for their men,
but there was no hiding fi:om that pitiless
rain of lead, and in a quarter of an hour
the captured trenches were three times as
full of Japanese casualties as they had
held Bussians. It was back to the dead
groimd again. And here the remnante of
three regiments rallied, and wished for
night. . « .

If the cold had been miserable while
they were waiting in the trenches, it was
nothing to compare with the state of
misery in which those poor soldiers found
themselves when night fell. The north
wind as it blew up the valley pierced
them to the bone ; they had neither food,
nor fire, nor drink. Many were wounded,
and where the blood had saturated their
clothes the texture was frozen to the con-

•* ACTUM EST DB /* 293

fiistency of board* For the sake of warmth
the men huddled together in groups. The
m&^e had been too great to hope that the
units might be disentangled. It was now
one great homogeneous mass animated
with one spirit, one object, which was
to complete the work which it had
begun.

The fall of night had brought no diminu-
tion in the noise of battle. The whole
length of the lines they had so recently
left were sparkling with the discharge of
their own guns and with the flash bursts
of the Russian shell. Nor were they secure
from casualty, and ever and anon the great
flood of weird white light from the search-
light on Itszushan showed the gunners how
to find them. Occasionally some massive
projectile would tear its way into the
centre of this mass of desperate men,
sweeping away half companies at a time;
mangled corpses and bursting hand-gren-

294 "ACTUM EST DE

ades would be scattered broadcast amongst
their shivering comrades.

Sixty -nine lay amongst this desperate
medley, his hands and feet bm*ied deep in
the snow to prevent them from freezing.
Then they heard the pant of climbing men
beneath them, — reinforcements were arriv-
ing. The officers along the front did their
utmost to form the men; it mattered not
the battalion, the regiment, the company,
— as the men lay they were formed. How
it began or where the order came from or
who was responsible, no one knew and no
one cared. All Sixty-nine remembers is,
that once more they were climbing upwards
and thanking Providence for the move-
ment which enabled them to get warmth
again into their stiffened limbs. Up and
up they went, past the trenches they had
won and lost earlier in the day. There
was no attempt at a surprise, no endeavour
to make the effort in sUence : orders were

"actum est DB ." 295

shouted up and down the line; men half
crazy from the tortures they were suffer-
ing through returning circulation were
either crying out in their pain or laughing
and singing with the echo of lunacy in the
pitch of their voices.

A dark parapet showed up in front of
them. Suddenly it became as light as
day : like a display of fireworks some hun-
dred star -shells were bursting overhead,
and as the magnesium flared up, the
assaulters saw that the Russians were
standing up upon their trenches prepared
to meet them. In a moment the air was
alive with the hissing of burning fuses,
and a hundred petty explosions from hand-
grenades singed the head of the assault.
It hesitated, quivered, lacerated and
broken, then pushed backwards, to be
received upon the bayonets of those who
were following behind.

It was but a momentary hesitation, and

- C« Arimrr** -oeam T^w '»

296 ^ "actum est db

•

the little men came again with an im-
petus that neither rifle-bullet, hand-gren-
ade, parapet, nor bayonet could resist.
As their ancestors had done a thousand
years before, to gain a footing on the para-
pet the Japanese made ramps of their dead
and wounded. Number Sixty -nine had
been in the first rush ; a bursting grenade
had almost torn the coat off his back, and
he had been beaten backwards with the
rest. But as the reinforcement pushed up
from behind, he came with it, and clutch-
ing his rifle with one hand tried to haul
himself up to the parapet.

The light still held as the Bussians, to
enable the taper bayonets in the trenches
to do their killing surely, fired salvoes
of star -shell. Against the white half-
light the desperate defenders stood out
as shadows on the crest -line ; one great
spectre made a downward lunge at Sixty-
nine. The bayonet whizzed past the little

*' ACTUM EST DB /' 297

man's ear, and the catch carried away
his shoulder - strap. Dropping his rifle,
he seized the firelock in both hands, and
putting his feet against the rock prised
the Russian from his balance and brought
him topplmg down. What happened to
this enemy he never knew; for already
the quick hands of the assailants were
piling the bodies of the dead against
the parapet, and joining the rush with
empty hands. Sixty -nine found himself
on the summit. Was it a temporary
purchase ? Sixty-nine was never to know,
for he had no time to calculate. Once
he had reached the summit he hurled
himself into the trench beneath. As far
as he was concerned the rest was all ob-
literated. He heard the coarse curses
in a foreign tongue; he heard the shrill
shouts of victory from his comrades ; men
stamped on his face, and then bodies
fell above him. As a usefrd ant in the

298 "ACTUM EST DB /'

great army of workers his piece was
done; but he and a few mad desperate
spirits like him had allowed those who
came after them to make the purchase
permanent.

For thirty long minutes a hand-to-hand
battle continued above him. Men threw
grenades in each other's faces; half- de-
mented Samurai flung themselves upon
the bayonets of the dozen Muscovites
who held the traverse in the trench.

Who shall say that the day of the
bayonet is past, that the brutal grips of
men in war are obsolete? Could sceptics
have hovered above that trench-head and
seen the shimmer of the steel as it gave
back the white glare of the star-shell;
could they have heard the sickening
thud of bayonet driven home, the grate
of steel on backbone, the despairing sob
of stricken man, — they would never have
preached their fallacies to a confiding

"ACTUM EST DB ." 299

world. Although there was not a breach
that had not its cartridge in the chamber,
the men roused to the limit of their ani-
mal fury overlook the mechanical appli-
ances which make war easy. They
thirsted to come to grips, and to grips
they came : hardly a shot was fired. The
hand grasped firm on the small of the
butt, when the mind means killing, for-
gets its cunning, and fails to operate the
trigger.

But it had to end. The old colonel
had fought his way through his own men
to the very point of the struggle. He
stood on the parapet, and his rich voice
for a second curbed the fury of the wild
creatures struggling beside him.

"Throw yourselves on their bayonets,
honourable comrades 1 " he shouted ; " those
who come behind will do the rest."

His men heard him, his officers heard
him. Eight stalwarts dropped their rifles.

SOO "ACTUM EST DB /'

held their hands above their heads^ and
flung themselves against the traverse. Be-
fore the Russian defenders could extricate
the bayonets from their bodies, the whole
pack of the war-dogs had surged over
them. The trench was won. The rest
was a massacre. • • •

We will spare the reader a description
of that shambles as it appeared when the
sun rose. Only those who have seen an
abattoir in a Chicago packing-house can
form the least conception of the spectacle.
Upon the summit of the highest level
of the works the morning rays of the
wintry sun caught the white and scarlet
of Japan's symbolic flag. On the bunt-
ing scarlet predominates, and thus it was
on this war. scarred crest. The virgin
snow was stamped out, and in the slush
and debris that remained, scarlet — the
life's blood of hundreds -^ predominated.
By that strange perversity which rules
our moral code, the work of brutal killing

ACTUM EST DE ^ 301

had barely ceased before the softer touch
of human r<3Solye had commenced its
charitable operations. The surgeons and
their orderlies were hard at work. They
waded into the shambles and handed up
the living when it was possible to separate
them from the dead. On the brink of
the parapet stood three surgeons, and as
each mangled frame passed it wa« placed
at tHeir feet. Many and many were just
pushed aside, for on them a surgeon's
skill would have been but wasted energy.
A more merciful course was therefore
adopted.

From a comer of the trench a clay- and
blood-stained figure was brought for in-
spection. The tunic was torn from breast
to shoulder, and had frozen stiff. The
surgeon might have passed it as a corpse
if the eyes had not opened. He squatted
down and pulled the stiffened tunic aside.
*'That," he said, turning to his senior,
"was a providential escape. See, the

302 "ACTUM EST DB ."

bayonet caught that metal ornament, which
took it on to the button, bo that it
glanced upwards and went through the
shoulder instead of the lung. The man
succumbed to a contusion elsewhere." And
with that, a yellow ticket was fastened
to his buttonhole; and thus it was that
Sixty-nine was able to return in a hospital
ship to Kobe.

THE END.

PSniTCD BT WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AVD SONS.

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